Cover
by Amira Devant
Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. When Kurt agreed to model, he had no idea how things would change. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric.
1. Smile for the Camera

Cover

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did.

Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric. Kurtana friendship.

AN: This monster mutated from a drabble to this… The plot bunny attacked me; viciously.

If anyone knows where Seo Joon is from, I'll write a one shot for them on any prompt. Because, seriously, if you know you are awesome on so many levels. Edited: Competition has been won and request for a Cover one-shot has been submitted.

Chapter 1

Smile for the Camera

-0-0-0-

Isabelle has never, in her years of working at Vogue dot com, seen a photo-shoot deteriorate as quickly as this one. And this had to be one of the most important ones Vogue dot com ever undertook. She could feel her years of hard work fall away as the shoot started from bad and went to worse.

To start, this shoot was going to a challenge. It was a joint project between Vogue and Vogue dot com, a special feature of Marc Jacob's new line. It was decided that, since the feature would include a full photographic spread, the whole advertisement should be shot at the same time. What would have been a special spread changed into a project, the likes of which Isabelle had never done before.

Anna Wintour, Vogue Editor, worked with Isabelle to organise the project. Marc Jacob's only wanted one photographer: the very temperamental but brilliant Seo Joon. The South Korean was a perfectionist and had a reputation for being harsh in every sense of the word. But he was the best up and coming photographer, accumulating accolades by the dozens over the last couple of years. He had an eye for style.

Only the best models from four different agencies were hired, the main model to be chosen on the day by both the designer and the photographer. The three studios were rented, and permission from the city officials was granted to shoot in Central Park, Times Square, Grand Central Station and Brooklyn Bridge.

The project would take at least 2 weeks.

And it started out in the worst way possible, Seo Joon's flight was overbooked due to a cancellation of another flight. He spent 14 hours in an airport after he had been told he didn't have a seat. His assistant finally gotten a seat on the next flight out, with some creative booking on Kurt, ensured that his connecting flights to New York was booked before he even boarded the plane. The new travel plans took him almost 48 hours of traveling through 4 countries.

Unfortunately the man was fuming when he landed on US soil due to the fact the only seat he could get into NY on short noticed was an economy. Some Korean boy group (who the hell has 14 members in a group?) booked out first and business class. And he was not a fan of the idol group.

Oh, and Marc Jacobs' luggage had been misplaced by the airlines. His personal luggage ended up in Hawaii. But at least the clothes for the shoot made it but it did leave to one grumpy designer who arrived in New York with nothing save his laptop and carry on. It took two days for the airline to locate the missing baggage and another day for it to make its way back to New York.

At this point, Isabelle was sure nothing else could go wrong, only to stare disbelieving at a panicking Kurt when he informed her that the studio they had booked flooded due to a pipe bursting. In a mad scramble for another location, Isabelle had Kurt book 3 different studios just in case.

The shoot had been delayed by a day and when everyone could finally congregate, Marc and Seo got into an argument over everything that had been planned. Apparently they both had very different visions for the shoot. Isabelle was close to tears as Anna practically frothing at the mouth. The Vogue editor had entered the fray when she realised that neither of their _visions_ would work well in a Vogue article.

"Coffee," came the soft yet high pitched tone from behind Isabelle, making her smile. She turned around to gratefully accept the offered cup, eying the familiar logo with a smile. Kurt Hummel was a godsend to Isabelle. The young man was smart, efficient and had both a sense and eye for fashion. He was the best intern she ever had, and when he chose rather to go to NYADA rather than pursue fashion, she offered him a part time job as her PA even if the job should have been fulltime. Sometimes it seemed that when she started to drown, he always appeared at her rescue.

"Thank you Kurt. I really needed this coffee. This day is just crazy," Isabelle sighed wearily.

Kurt snorted and raised an eyebrow, "Crazy is an understatement, Isabelle. But this is the biggest project you've ever done…"

Blue-grey eyes glanced around, ensuring that the Terrible Three, as he had come to call them, were still arguing before muttering, "And you're working with some of the most temperamental people I've ever met. And that's saying something."

Isabelle snorted into her coffee as she side-glanced her PA. Kurt Hummel was certainly one of a kind. When the boy had interviewed, Isabelle had to respect his sense of style.

Once she looked past that, she noticed the tall boy with porcelain skin and cheek bones that she would kill for; Kurt Hummel was a looker and didn't even know it. And don't get her started on his eyes. There were quite a few instances where she stifled a laugh at a poor boy who tripped over himself when meeting the one Kurt Hummel, boy from Ohio who didn't realise he was being hit on. A boy who never looked at anyone else because he was head over heels in love with his high school boyfriend. The same boy who broke his heart, and Isabelle had seen the despair of that aftermath as well at the slow repair of that relationship. It seemed that Kurt's boyfriend truly did want to make amends but Kurt was still hurting from the betrayal. It reminded her just how young he was, not even 21. She forgot sometimes that behind the efficient, snarky assistant was a 19 year old boy.

He was certainly something.

"I'm not saving you if they hear you calling them that," Isabelle retorted as she eyed the chaos the set had descended into. Months of planning was coming undone on the first day. And honestly, she didn't see how this could be saved. The concept had been agreed upon. Marc had wanted this line to be about wear-ability and a high sense of fashion. It seemed that Marc wanted a runway style shoot while Anna wanted something with a lot of computer editing. That was all good and well, but Seo Joon wanted _no editing _and to use the photographic art style.

Kurt smirked at the response as the three were still arguing at each other whilst the staff stood around awkwardly. On top of this mess, two of the models chosen had to cancel. One eloped and was honeymoon. (Kurt had to raise an eyebrow at that. She was losing her contract if the tone of the apologetic agent was anything to go by.) The other injured himself base jumping. (Who the hell goes base jumping the week before one of the biggest shoots of their career?)

"I don't think that's a problem," Kurt replied dryly, "They are too busy trying to kill each other with their voices. They should teach a class at NYADA on voice projection."

Isabelle laughed quietly at that not, suppressing the sigh of sadness at the fact that Kurt refused Parsons for a place at NYADA, the school that turned him down on his first try.

Kurt's face turned serious after that, "But seriously, you need to take control and get them to agree. We need to confirm the studios and the dates for the outdoor shoot, and confirm on the new models. Everything is going to be backlogged."

Isabelle turned to Kurt with wide eyes, "You want to send me into _that?_ I thought you liked having me as a boss."

The brunette merely rolled his eyes at her. Isabelle sighed, briefly wondered if she could make Kurt do her job, before dismissing the idea. Instead, she steeled her nerves and walked towards the fray.

Anna was arguing fiercely with Marc while Seo was scowling at the two. At this point, Isabelle didn't even know what they were arguing over. The only thing they had all agreed on was the clothing.

"This needs to stop," Isabelle blurted out after watching the tension in the circle of professionals. This caused all three tempers to be directed at her, eyes questioning her intrusion. The blond woman sighed as she contemplated her choice of career. "We are behind schedule already, and that is excluding the delays over the sites and the fact we have lost two models."

At the mention of the models, Seo Joon jerked and stared at her wide eyed. "You've lost the models too?"

This photo shoot was cursed. It had to be.

Seeing that she had their full attention, Isabelle explain what had occurred. Anna had groaned in response when she heard the tale. This put then even more behind schedule. During this, Kurt had magically appeared bearing coffee for the three terrors.

"We have to practically re-plan this whole endeavour," Marc grumbled.

Isabelle sighed, drinking her own coffee. Kurt caught her eye and smiled slightly. His eyes were dancing slightly, as if to say 'At least they aren't arguing anymore.'

Isabelle snorted lightly, 'Kurt would be far blunter than that.'

As silence fell on the group, Kurt shifted to her side and waited. Isabelle knew she was going to have to do something to save this project.

"Then let's start planning," she finally said, getting the attention from the terrible three. "We have the clothing picked out. We have several sites reserved but that doesn't help if there is no theme or style decided."

"This clothing," Marc said tiredly as he glared at the other two of the terrible three, "is a style of wearable high fashion. It's mainly menswear with a few stylish but classic female pieces. It's more smart casual and formal than plain casual. That is why I thought a runway style shoot would be effective."

"Okay," Isabelle cut in as the editor and photographer opened their mouths, "You know your clothing the best but the style of advertising is old. You might as well have a runway show and publish the photographs from that. I know it's an old sure-fire way of getting your line out there but we want something more for this project. We could do a few shots in that style. It would be fantastic to display at the actually launch event."

Marc looked put out but nodded reluctantly at the sound logic. Isabelle sighed in relief before turning to the other two. "What style did the both of you have planned?"

Anna gave Seo Joon a cold look, which he returned. She turned to Isabelle with a haughty expression. Kurt, in the meanwhile, was quickly typing out notes on his iPad.

"We are essentially shooting an exclusive photo spread and an advertisement spread," she reminded everyone, "so we can shoot a classic outdoor style shoot but use editing software to make more appealing to our readers. This works well for both our companies." Anna had to point out to Isabelle.

Isabelle said nothing but nodded at Seo to state his piece.

"Capture the feeling of the clothing," Joon said after a moment, brown eyes glaring from behind his fringe, "the feeling of wearing the clothing."

The South Korean man paused here and looked at Marc, flipping his long hair back, "The feeling of wearing high fashion, of being fashionable while doing everyday things. A photograph that inspires that does not need anything else to sell the clothing."

Kurt had stopped his typing to look at the grouchy man. Despite everything, the brown-haired boy smiled at that. Seo Joon was an artist. He had the need for following his passion and sharing it with the world. It was something Kurt could understand, and knows why he fights tooth and nail against every idea but his own. A smile tugged at his lips at the words of the grouch.

"You like that idea as the style for this shoot, Kurt?" Isabelle asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "As someone who reads Vogue, follows fashion and loves Marc Jacobs."

Kurt froze as everyone turned on him. He swallowed as he tried not to stammer his answer. "I just… I understand how Mr Joon feels, as a fellow artist. But as a buyer of designer clothing, I wouldn't want anything to detract from the actual clothing. You imagine what it would be like to wear the clothing you see, how it would look on you and how it would feel to walk wearing something that amazing. The spread has to make people _want _the clothing."

They all nodded at that and quickly fell into a discussion. Anna, Isabelle and Marc started talking a rapid pace about target markets, styles and locations. Seo Joon, on the other hand, was staring at Kurt with a blank face.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mr Joon?" Kurt asked as he flushed at the intense gaze. The man was unreadable.

"You're an artist?" the man finally asked, "a designer?"

Kurt laughed at that, his voice high and clear. An eyebrow rose on reflex as he shook his head, "No, I'm a performer. I want to be on Broadway."

Seo Joon looked shocked for a moment before he went back to a blank albeit grumpy expression. "Why is a performer working at a fashion magazine?"

"Part time job," Kurt replied as he returned to his iPad, "I'm a student. I have to pay the rent somehow. And I like fashion."

The man said nothing else but nodded as he turned back to the heated conversation that was occurring.

Kurt left them to their devices as he made his way to the entrance. An intern was dropping off the profiles of all the models they could hire on short notice to replace the missing two. On the way, he asked an assistant to prepare another round of coffee.

'Seems like they are finally making progress,' Kurt thought with a relieved smile. 'Maybe we'll finally get some work done now.'

Work was good. Work kept him busy and didn't let his mind wonder. He didn't have to think about the fact his boyfriend who he had loved, and had been loved by, had cheated on him. Because he _missed him, because Kurt wasn't there for him. _It felt like Blaine broke more than just his heart at times. He craved his company at times, but Kurt knew that even if he could drown himself in hazel eyes, he still wouldn't trust his ex-boyfriend. He just couldn't.

Kurt knew that he had messed up by working too much and ignoring Blaine at the time. But he was trying to find a path in New York and Blaine had asked him to go. Kurt had been trying to build a life in New York. He had been trying to find the confidence to try again when it came to NYADA and his job was just the boost.

Work kept Kurt from thinking about how much he loved Blaine. That he loved him. But it hurt. That one act broke the trust between them. And it hurt Kurt more than NYADA rejecting him. Blaine was the one person he let in; he trusted with his heart and body.

And that one act of cheating, it made Kurt feel lower than lower. Kurt felt worthless; like he was that replaceable. Like Kurt _didn't matter;_ and that hurt more than any other rejection.

Instead, Kurt went back to faking his self-esteem; self-confidence. Just until he could pick up the pieces and put himself back together.

So until then, Kurt kept his head high and shoulders' squared. Even if still loving Blaine hurt.

Kurt smiled and thanked Sofia for the files before sending her backed to the office. The files came in a box with handles. There looked close to 50 models portfolio.

When Kurt got back, the four had commandeered a table and seemed to have hashed out the details of the project. Kurt guessed that some sort of agreement had been reached.

"Isabelle," Kurt murmured quietly to his boss, "I have the models' portfolios."

"Good timing, Kurt," Isabelle said, turning around. "We just confirmed the style of shoot. It's going to be a collaboration of ideas, but essentially we are going to Seo Joon's vision but using Anna's ideas for the advertisement special. Marc has final say because it is his clothing."

"Impressive," Kurt replied, somewhat dryly, as he placed the box on the table, "I will need to confirm locations and models before we can go near wardrobe."

Isabelle nodded as she started flipping through resumes, "Seo Joon will pick the locations. He's taking the creative directorship."

Kurt nodded as he made a note on his iPad. "So, can I have confirmation of locations and models tomorrow? It's going on six and the crew is packing up to go. I need to head to the office and then I'm calling it a day."

Isabelle looked up from her perusing, acutely aware of the three other pairs of ears.

"I'll be in the office early, let Joanne know. You'll be in tomorrow?"

Kurt looked up from his iPad and nodded, "I have class tomorrow afternoon from two. I can be at the offices at seven to make the confirmations."

Isabelle looked worried, "Don't you have class this evening?"

Kurt hummed, not even looking up, "I have rehearsals tonight for two hours from 8. I'll go straight there from the offices."

His boss sighed, "You're getting a low workload after this project. I need you to be at work at seven tomorrow morning."

Kurt looked up and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Isabelle."

"Enjoy your rehearsals," Isabelle replied already turning back to the files, "and well done on getting the solo. Only freshman to have one for the year end recital, right?"

Kurt chuckled as he was ready to leave, "You scare me sometimes."

Isabelle hummed but Kurt could see the smirk on her lips, "You not the only one who pays attention to office gossip. What would be scare you is the fact I already have tickets, as do most of the office."

"Again, you're scary."

Kurt left, phone already out and talking. Isabelle chuckled to herself.

"Your assistant," Anna cut in from behind her papers, "is something else, Isabelle. So tell me why is he not in fashion or journalism but _performance_?"

"For the very reason why he is something else," Isabelle shot back, "he does what he want, what he's passionate about. For now, he enjoys working here. He's talented."

Anne smirked, "He's the one who made that make over video. He would be great at Vogue; your office or mine."

"You have a better chance at getting Alexander McQueen back from the dead," Isabelle bit back.

Marc was watching with amusement. The assistant in question, when they had first met, had stared at him, wide eyed and the designer could recognise some of his clothing that the boy wore.

"We'll use all the locations, as well as these three," Seo Joon cut in as he offered a notepad with three names, "I would rather have too many shots than too few."

Isabelle took the page with a smile. "We'll have these booked first thing tomorrow."

"The models," Anne cut in, "you need to pick the models."

Marc moved forward to the table. "Who do we have booked?"

"These two, as main and these four as supplementary," Isabelle sighed as she put the files on a free space. For a moment, Isabelle grinned at the fact that all the files were colour coded. Red for the main models. Blue for the supplementary models. And green for the portfolios.

"Well," Marc spoke slowly as he opened the folders, "We have a male and female model. The supplementary are good. We need another male model for main at least."

Seo looked over the models but his face was blank. "What is the look you're are going for?" He posed the question to Marc.

The designer looked at the models in question. "Why are you questioning this?" The man side-eyed the young photographer.

"Because," Seo Joon smirked as he spoke, "none of these models fit the _vision_. None of them would look like wearing your clothing would be a dream come true."

"But," Marc prompted.

At this, Seo flipped the iPad he had practically surgically attached that day. One the screen was a crappy resolution but undeniable brilliant image. The figure was poised, head held high and dignified but a slight smile pulled his lips. He looked good; his clothes looked good. He looked natural; and even surrounded by people, he pulled focus.

"Do you always go around taking photos of assistants?" Isabelle asked as her brain finally caught up with who was the focus of the picture.

"When they show more potential than most models I've worked with," Seo bit back, his accented barely noticeable.

"He's young and good looking. He carries himself and the clothing well," Marc murmured. "Good proportions. Very photogenic."

Seo grinned at Marc before looking to Isabelle with an expectant expression. "Well?"

-0-0-0-

The first thing Kurt noticed when he entered his workplace was the cup of coffee sitting on his desk. Then he noticed a guilty looking Isabelle.

The boy sighed as he put down his messenger bag – designer or course- on the table and picked up the cup.

"What do you need?"

Isabelle winced slightly at the blunt tone but smiled nonetheless. "I need you to model for us."

Kurt's eyes widened in shock but before he could open his mouth to argue the (ridiculous) statement, Isabelle cut him off.

"Seo Joon wants you as the main model and everyone else agrees. You fit the image we want. Plus, you will be paid what anyone we hired would have gotten plus a surplus for it being your first contract as a Vogue model. It's a lot of money, Kurt. You're gorgeous. And Seo Joon took some pictures of you yesterday, and they look fantastic. You're not a second choice. Please, _please_ to do this or the terrible three will be arguing over this next."

Kurt stared at her, jaw slacked.

Silently, Isabelle turned over her iPad with the photos Joon took the day before. Blue-green eyes stared at them in shock.

"These are really good, Kurt."

Kurt said nothing.

"I'd owe you a favour."

Kurt raised a hand to silence his boss as he stared at the pictures. His first reaction was that the man in the picture was not him. Then he felt vulnerable. This guy took photos of him without his consent. It made him sick. It was violating.

And then it there was the small voice that agreed with Isabelle because _damn he did look good. _

Isabelle silently handed over the file she had left on his desk. Kurt looked at it for a moment before opening it. Inside the folder was a modelling contract with Vogue and another contract for the Marc Jacobs project. And the sum of money offered was enough to cover his portion rent for a year and then some. It was a lot of money. That he could really use…

'Shit, I'm actually thinking about this,' Kurt thought as he closed the file and sighed.

"Can I think about this?" Kurt asked quietly.

Isabelle nodded, "Sure, but I need those locations confirmed. It's in the orange file."

"Sure thing," Kurt replied, still staring at the file in hand.

The blond woman smiled slightly as she left the desk quietly. Most of the office knew about the offer already, because the only thing more effective than the wardrobe department is the gossip mill.

It took two hours, but the permits would be coming in by lunch and permission was granted thanks to Kurt and four interns who were sent running through New York to various offices with paper works.

That left just one problem: Kurt had to decide. The only thing left to do on the long list of bookings for the project was the models. Kurt sighed. There was only thing that Kurt could really do. He needed advice.

Swallowing, Kurt speed dialled the familiar number and listened to the ring tone.

"Hummel tire and lube, Rick speaking," came the voice. Kurt smiled at the familiar voice.

"Hey Uncle Rick, its Kurt." Kurt said of a beat. "Is my dad in? I need to speak to him."

"Kurt! How's are you doing?" Rick replied, his voice brightening. "Your dad's in the office. I'll put you through."

"I'm good," replied Kurt, "And is everything okay at the shop?"

"Yeah. We're actually busier than ever. Miss you helping out here though. We have this new apprentice but I swear you knew more about cars when you were ten," Rick laughed over the phone, before adding, "I'm connecting you now. He just got off the line. Chat to you soon, yeah?"

Before Kurt could reply, the ring tone was back. In a moment, Burt Hummel's voice came across the line.

"Hey dad," Kurt smiled into the phone. "How are you? Are you sticking to your diet?"

"Kurt!" the tone of his father's voice changed from professional to warmth immediately. "How are you? What's wrong?"

Kurt laughed, feeling the rush of warm feelings at hearing his father's voice, "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"Kurt," came the patient tone, "you're calling in the middle of the morning while you are supposed to be at work."

The boy flushed at the fact his father knew him better than he would care to admit. "I'm okay, dad. I just need some advice."

"Oh boy, sounds big."

Kurt sighed before launching into everything that was happening at his work and how he didn't know what to do.

"Bud, you've basically told me that this is one hell of an opportunity. So is really the problem here?"

Kurt swallowed. "I don't think I'm… good enough for this. I'm terrified of not being good enough. This is the biggest project Vogue has undertaken in a year. I mean, they need a model for one my idol's newest line."

The line went quiet. "Kurt, what is really going on? You have never thought you weren't good enough. You would argue that, over every other person, they wanted you. That you are good enough. So where is this coming from?"

Kurt sighed as he dropped his head into his free hand. Not caring about his hair for the first time in years, Kurt ran his hand through it. He didn't know how to put to words the thoughts that ran through his head.

"I…" Kurt stopped to take a deep breathe. Slowly, very slowly he let the words that had been playing on his brain over and over again. "How can _I _be good enough when my own boyfriend thought I wasn't good enough? How can I be better than any of those professional models because some photographer says so? My boyfriend didn't think I was good enough to stay loyal to; my boyfriend who I loved and loved me. So how can I feel anything but insignificant?"

"Oh Kurt…"

"And it hurts. Because I still love him, dad. I still see Blaine as one of the best things that's ever happened to me. And that's even after he cheated on me. How depressing is that?"

Burt sighed as he tiredly ran a hand over his face. It broke his heart to hear his son in pain but to hear him doubting himself after everything he's been through? He was starting to see that the break up between him and Blaine was deeper than just heartbreak of a first love. Even if Blaine was still trying to get his son back.

-0-0-0-

"Why?" Kurt asked the moment he through the door to Isabelle's office. "Why me? What makes me good enough? Why not just pick someone who has actually modelled before?"

Isabelle looked up from the file she was reading, dressed (Kurt noted that he missed it in the morning) in a stunning white Dior dress. She calmly put the file down and smiled at him.

"Because you are young and fresh and exactly what both Marc and Seo want to show in the spread. Because you are gorgeous. Because it's a damn good opportunity. And because I know you can do it, and do it better than anyone else I know personally. I wouldn't take a chance like this on anyone else in this office. We see something in you that I don't thing you see in yourself, Kurt."

Kurt's face remained blank but his lips were pursed. He breathed out heavily. "Why do you think I can pull this off? This is international!"

"Because," and here Isabelle grinned, "you are a performer. You have what it takes, and if you got nervous, you know how to fake it."

Kurt had to laugh at that. "But, I refuse to go shirtless."

-0-0-0-

The shoot itself was nothing like what Kurt imagined it would be. He was used to being on the other side of the camera; doing the leg work of a PA. Being a model was harder than it seemed.

Everyone seemed to touch him: the make-up girls, wardrobe, even the Seo Joon. The lights were blinding and stronger than anything he faced while being on stage. And between Isabelle, Anna and Marc; Kurt felt like a Ken doll. It was awkward to stand around in his boxers feeling so exposed while the one site seamstress refitted the clothing.

The worst experience by far was the gossip. While the staff knew and liked him; the hired models were pissed. He was a 'no name wannabe' who 'stole' the spotlight as the main model. Something they had all being vying for after hearing of the two models who dropped out. Whilst the two other main models (Leah and Jean) were put out that they had been bumped down from main to supplementary.

The first day had been awkward as hell. Kurt felt awkward; just standing there. He didn't know what to do. Seo had sighed and put down his camera before he even took a photograph. Kurt felt himself flush at the snickers that resonated in the quiet of the first studio as he stood in front of the white back drop dressed in a stunning white-grey suit that he would sell his first born for.

"Kurt," the irritable man stated, not even blinking at the snickers, "relax."

Kurt broke out of his panic to level the man with a flat glare. Before the teen signed the contract, he had insisted that Isabelle call the terrible trio in to sit down and talk about this (insane) idea. Kurt had voiced his worries and they had all placated him with insurances that he would be fine. That they would help him. Especially when he confessed his worries over not knowing how to model.

"Kurt," Seo tried again, "how do you feel about wearing this suit? Would you want to wear it?"

"Wear it?" Kurt asked incredulously, "I'll trade my first born for it. It's _gorgeous_!"

"Then show that. The look of _feeling incredible because of what you are wearing_."

Kurt fell silent at that as he thought it over. Slowly, and silently, Seo went back to his position and picked up his cameras. He waited patiently as Kurt gathered himself.

It was like watching a transformation in front of him and it was fascinating to Seo. He watched at the awkwardly standing teen spread his legs and stood taller. His shoulders seemed broader as he held his head high and a smirk pulled his lips. His body automatically angled to show off the suit; one hand slipping in to the pants pocket. Confidence radiated from him; as if when he walked into a room all eyes would be on him.

Without a word, Seo started clicking away. 'Kid's a damn good performer,' he noted as Kurt changed his stance and everything about him screamed 'I'm _that_ good and I know it.' It was natural and all traces of nervousness was gone. Seo smirked behind his camera as he let the kid figure out how he wanted to look while he took the pictures.

Kurt's head space, was strangely enough, placed him back in high school. The feeling of wearing whatever he damn wanted because it looked good and he looked good. The feeling of 'you wished you looked this good' and the confidence he always wore his outfits with. And this was without the bullies.

It was a fantastic, and oddly therapeutic, feeling.

Looking directly at the camera, Kurt knew he had to sell it. He had to sell the outfit. It was one thing to look good; but it was something entirely else to make someone else want it. Faking the confidence was easy.

Seo grinned as Kurt moved and the Korean knew that this was the photograph. The boy, his eyes shining blue and a playful smirk pulling on naturally pink lips, relaxed his stance as he pulled at the knot of his tie. His head tilted into the opposite side, showing off his (gorgeous) cheekbones but the action itself drew attention to his suit.

Relaxed. Confident. Powerful. Hot and sexy. And dressed to impress.

That was the photo Seo wanted and took it with a smug feeling. This was going to be one hell of a project.

"Can I get something a little bit playful?" Seo called out with his eye glue to his camera. He was still clicking away when Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "Something less mature."

Kurt's smirk turned into a smile as his body moved in an old but familiar movement. His hands moved to undo his blazer buttons as he side stepped. As he finished the box step, Kurt grabbed onto the lapels of the suit and grinned. In one smooth movement, Kurt did the infamous Warbler step-spin.

Seo barely blinked at he kept on clicking. "Please do that again." He needed more shots.

Kurt's grin grew slightly as he relented, redoing the box step he could to in his sleep and the spin. He refused to think about a certain ex-Warbler that practically patented the move.

Seo Joon finally tore his eye from the camera viewer and handed the camera to his assistant.

"Touch up on make-up and his hair need to more ruffle and less styled. I want the two female models in blue. Wardrobe, change the male models into the black suits with bow ties," Seo called out as his assistant uploaded the pictures from his camera. Marc was already hovering behind the man, trying to peak at the shots.

Kurt looked at the man, surprise clearly written on his face.

"That was good, Kurt," Seo added as he checked the laptop, "We are going to use some of these; we just need a variety."

"That was okay?"

It was Marc who laughed before waving him over, "Very good. Come and see for yourself."

Kurt couldn't quite believe the man staring back at him through the screen was him. He was sexy. It inflated his deflating ego. He looked good. Really good. He blinked wide eyed at the screen as the harpies from make-up and hair descended upon him.

The rest of that studio's shoot went really well. Kurt didn't feel so out of place in front of the camera after the first round. He just pretended he was on stage. Although, things weren't as relaxed when he had to model with the two female models who were groping him as per instructions. But on the up side, groping someone who wasn't interested seemed to break the ice between them and the one model, Freya actually warmed up to him. She was the one he had to grope in what was a pseudo-tango pose with his hand disappearing under the slit of her dress high on her thigh. He had apologised profusely for that. She had laughed it off saying she had been through worse, and then loudly mused if she could feel him up next.

The shoot with the male models was distinctly more awkward. And for once, it was not over his sexuality but the fact he (a rookie) was the main model. Kurt was positioned between Jean and Lucas, his white standing out even more against their black suits. It was more of a traditional photograph where they all stood posing. Then they were positioned in a runway-esque pose and Seo Joon happily clicked away. Kurt did his best to hide the sheer awkwardness he felt next to the two tall and handsome men.

They needed to shoot four outfits in this studio before moving on. Kurt knew he had to model close to fifty outfits over several locations. For the first time since signing the contract, he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

-0-0-0-

The shoot lasted a little over four weeks. Kurt felt a little guilty for it taking longer because he had to attend class. Seo had assured him that it was actually a good thing because they could edit the photographs and check if they needed to redo a location or outfit.

Marc was suitable impressed with the way Kurt carried his clothing: everything from business to casual suave.

Isabelle and Anna duked it out over the spreads that would appear in their publications.

And it seemed that the amount Kurt was to be paid had changed after reviewing the shoot. He was to be paid _more _due to the increased length and size of the project. Kurt had enough money for a whole year of fees for NYADA and a little bit left over. He had to double check with Isabelle that no one made a mistake in quoting the figure.

Strangely, Santana was his biggest supporter when he told his flatmates. Rachel had stared at him for a moment before congratulating. Which, directly after, started asking if it was a good idea considering he just started NYADA that semester.

"Cool it, Limelight," Santana bit back, cutting Rachel off, "this is one hell of an opportunity. Kurt's getting his face out there; plus its good money."

"It'll be fine, Rachel," Kurt added, still slightly dazed at the fact he was modelling for _Marc Jacobs!_ "All the shoots will be done during what would have been my normal working hours. In fact, I will have a lighter workload now that I'm not part of organising the shoot."

It took a few days for Kurt to figure out that Rachel was a tad _jealous_ at his modelling gig, even though she was trying to get over it. She was bitter, as Santana put it, because 'unlike you Porcelain, the only way she will land a modelling gig is after she makes it big.'

Santana had been oddly tactful about the whole situation. Santana from high school would have been blunt as hell. The Latina had asked if how she could apply for a modelling position. She was taking night classes in drama and dance; while searching for auditions from everything from commercials to plays. She had a few gigs around where she sang at night. Modelling seemed to be added to her repertoire.

Kurt had merely got the information from the modelling department and handed Santana the forms she would have to fill in and the requirements for her portfolio.

Apart from his dad and his flatmates, Kurt didn't tell people that he was a model. It seemed so awkward. Sure, Carole and Finn knew from his dad but it wasn't anything he advertised about himself. He went around being the part time vogue dot com employee and full time NYADA student. In hindsight, it was a good thing because Isabelle appeared a week into the shoot asking him to sign a confidentiality contract that had been forgotten.

His notoriety at NYADA grew after beating 'Golden Girl Rachel Berry' at the midnight sing off. Not that Kurt cared beyond the boost to his ego. And how he dated and dumped the senior student Adam Crawford. Being a countertenor and a soloist also 'helped'.

The worst came when he actually started at NYADA. Because of his late entrance, Kurt was placed in different practical classes from Rachel, excluding free sing. So he had braced himself when he walked into Cassandra July's dance class, ready for the whiplash and general bitchiness. Instead, she had insulted him like any other student and watched him like a hawk. In the second class she smiled and nodded at him, loudly commenting that he had technique which _they all should have or at least practice till they fainted to get. _If auditioning at the Winter Recital had not made him infamous, being a favourite of July's would.

"Oh, you're a diva. But you walked in here and showed that you will work hard. You don't expect everything to be handed to you. You have training and the thick skin to take the backlash. Plus, you're not fat and can take direction. You got talent Hummel, and you know it. But you also know how hard you have to fight to be recognised. I respect that fight." Cassandra's word to him after class stayed with him. She was right. He was used to fighting for the attention; for the chance to shine.

Kurt stayed out of the gossip mill as much as possible. He took the praise and criticism from his teachers. He practiced hard and did his homework. Because, honestly, he didn't have time or energy to do much more. Despite what he had told Rachel, Kurt was putting in more hours than usual at Vogue. He felt bad that he was delaying the whole shooting because he wasn't a full time model.

In the end, the conclusion of the project wasn't anything big. The editing department was in overdrive and Kurt took his much due vacation times. And just in time too. He had less than a week for the concert and his big solo. He finally had the time to throw himself into that; although the limits of Rachel's maturity seemed to have reached its limit. She was angry that's he wasn't offered a solo (Kurt was the sole first year solo) and had turned that anger into pointing out Kurt's mistakes. She kept offering, as the date drew closer, to take over the 'stress of the solo' from him.

Kurt's life was busy enough with NYADA's workload and year end tests and the few hours of work he squeezed around that. And the vocals teacher Mr Hardison was trying to get Kurt to add another major onto his performance major for the next year. The man was practically begging him to train his voice for opera as well. He was even willing to get a Julliard professor to take his vocals training for the course as NYADA didn't have one. Kurt wasn't so sure he wanted to do opera let alone the amount of extra work it would add. But it would be amazing training for his vocals. He had an appointment with Hardison the day after exams were finished.

Instead, Kurt threw himself into his school work. His solo was ready and perfect. He would be singing a pop song, which wasn't usually in his repertoire but his range allowed Mc Allens to (finally) get a student to do a cover of this song. It was Adam Lambert's 'Aftermath', which pushed Kurt's voice from his lower register to his upper register in one breathe. It was exhilarating and showed him just how his lung capacity was lacking. It was strange to hear his own voice, instead of the more delicate tone he was projecting _strength_.

Kurt was belting. And damn, he felt smug about that.

The exams came and went with little flair. It involved some tempers flare and lots of coffee, but it ended with little drama. Santana landed a modelling gig for a small chain store. She bitched about the teenybopper clothing she had to wear and smile even while the asshole groped her ass. Rachel was a whirlwind as she tried to practice 24/7 for her practical exams. She didn't apologise for any of her words or actions regarding Kurt's solo, but she did throw herself into the chorus piece the freshmen's were doing at the year-end concert.

Kurt, after vegetating for a day as a post exam celebration, met with Mr Hardison. The man was in his mid-forties and always had a smile on his face. The man welcomed Kurt into his office with said smile.

"Take a seat, Mr Hummel," Cole Hardison said as he closed his door. People had a tendency to come in if the door was open and he couldn't let that happen. He was a man on a mission.

Kurt sat down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk and waited.

Hardison took his seat and opened the file on his desk. Green eyes looked up and smiled at Kurt.

"Don't look for nervous Mr Hummel, you're not in trouble," he said dryly. Kurt chuckled but relaxed slightly.

"So," the teacher continued, "you are currently a performance major with a minor in costume design and dance. That's quite a busy workload. Do you have a part time job as well? Are you auditioning?"

Kurt blinked at the question before he answered, "I work as PA part time. And I only audition for roles when I can make the actual audition. We keep a calendar of audition dates, times and roles at the flat. My flatmates are performers too."

Hardison sighed, "Then you don't have much time to take a heavier workload." He paused and looked Kurt in the eye.

"You have to understand, Mr Hummel, how rare your voice is. Most countertenors don't last nor do they have your large range. There will not be a demand for your voice on Broadway. It doesn't fit the classic tenor directors and casting directors like. But I can guarantee that with extra training you can graduate and get at least four job offers in operatic productions based solely on your voice. That is why I recommended you pick up a classical vocals as a major. It's the basics of training for opera theatre."

Kurt sighed as he closed his eyes. He hated this. He hated people taking one look at him (or in this, one listen to his voice) and placing limitation on him. And here was yet another teacher who was telling him he couldn't do it. And that stung like hell.

"So I should change my major," Kurt said emotionlessly. He suddenly felt the old bone deep tiredness. He was once again building his walls.

"No," Hardison said plainly. Kurt looked at him, slightly shocked. "Kurt, I'm not saying you can't make it on Broadway, in fact, I think you would carve your own niche because your vocal range is so large and diverse. You've improved a lot in six months. I feel, as your academic advisor, that you should use the uniqueness of your voice. You need, at the very least, basic classical vocal training. It would only add to your resume."

Kurt merely sighed as he nodded. He knew it would be a good idea but he just didn't have the time. He needed his job to pay rent. Sure his dad gave him money each month but Kurt would like to be financially independent from his father. It was good fall-back fund. Taking another major would mean he would not be able to work; which meant no rent money. Kurt had a trust fund for his college fees; money his dad had put away and a large portion of his mother's life insurance pay out. But financially, Kurt was set at the moment.

The money from the Jacob's project had Kurt ready to make a year's worth of school fees and three months of rent. He could take less hours at work next year to pick up the extra course and pay the difference from his savings. But he was already working fewer hours than any other PA and Isabelle wouldn't be able to keep him on. He would have get a new job and somehow try and save for the next year.

Kurt winced though. He really liked that he had a huge safety fund. He had been planning on paying his fees for the coming year and saving the let over. He would have kept working for his rent and budget. A year's worth of fees would go a long way in making his college fund last longer.

"I could take one courses more each semester," Kurt admitted. It would mean that he would have to spend his weekends to bring his hours up at work and little to no time off. But he could do it.

Cole Hardison nodded but pulled out a booklet. He opened to an earmarked page, "You're biggest problem is the lack of time, right?"

Kurt nodded.

"What are your summer plans? Because you can take six courses during the summer. 3 of your current courses and you can pick up 3 classical courses," the teacher added.

"It would mean that I could pick up the extra major along with my current courses and not lose too much time. But no summer holidays."

"Exactly."

Hardison was looking at Kurt expectant. Kurt was thinking it through. It was a good idea. He could pay for the courses himself so it wasn't a problem financially. But it meant no summer holiday. He would only have two weeks of vacation before class started again. That would be the only time he could visit his dad. And after the cancer scare, Kurt had wanted to spend more time at home. On the other hand, Blaine was in Lima. And he would be coming to New York during the summer. Despite still being 'broken up', they were still friends.

"I'll need to speak with my dad, but it sounds like a good idea," Kurt admitted. The man just smiled at him and gave him the deadline for summer courses registration.

-0-0-0-

The year-end concert went near perfectly. There was an issue with the sound during a junior number were a microphone wasn't turned on in time for the solo. The performances were a range from theatre to pop music. It was a good mix, but only seniors were allowed to perform Broadway-esque songs. Rumour is that there were scouts and casting directors sitting in the audience.

The freshman number was a chorus line of Britney Spears mash-up. It was rather fun but the dancing was what took long to get down. And it was good introduction for Kurt's solo.

Rather than a whole cast of dancers, there were six dancer major juniors who were backing him up. It was a toned down but cohesive routine. For Kurt, the song's lyrics held a special meaning. Hardison said he had a gift for carrying the emotion through a song; and that was what he aimed to do. Which was ironic since that the reason he was given for now getting tin NYADA on the first try was because he sang a song without showing enough emotion. He had song the song so many times he could do it in his sleep.

Kurt's voice had soared over the music and dropped into his lower register. It was good, or so Kurt thought. Adam Lambert's voice was one in a million but he thought he did the song justice. The applause at the end seemed to agree with him.

Kurt was flushed when he stepped off stage. The few people he spoke to rushed to congratulate him when he stepped into the green room. Many had no idea how deep his voice could go. But the greatest surprise was the group waiting for him after the concert.

Carole, Finn and Burt were waiting for Kurt, along with a handful of his co-workers from Vogue. Isabelle was there as well, dressed to the nines and holding a bunch of flowers.

-0-0-0-

Kurt went back to Lima for his two weeks of vacation before his summer semester at NYADA. It took going back to Lima to realise that high school was still in session as NYADA's term ended before the high school holidays, and some other colleges. Finn was still at OSU and would be staying there most of the summer for football camp. He had finally made reserve quarterback for the team and had been ecstatic when he called with the good news. Kurt smiled and was happy for his stepbrother, even if he hated the sport. It was Finn's dream.

Isabelle had given him time off on the basis he would have to pick up the time when he was in New York again. She had also handed him another envelope with another large check, apparently he got paid extra for the Advertisement portion of the project. As well as an offer from Marc Jacobs to be a model on the runway at his show in two months' time. And that quoted figure was a little ridiculous.

Rather, he was back home. And dealing with an ex-boyfriend who was starting to be more of a boyfriend. Blaine had applied and made it into NYADA and NYU for music. Kurt always knew he would make it. If nothing else, Blaine was talented. He just didn't know if he wanted to go into Broadway or just music. Tina and Artie graduated as well. Artie was going to LA to attend film school; he would be sharing a flat with Mercedes. Tina got into Parsons for fashion design. She, Sam and Blaine were going to rent another flat in the same building as Kurt, Rachel and Santana. Brittany was at MIT already. It seemed sad to see the last of the First Generation New Directions move on. And all that was left at the old high school were photographs and trophies.

Kurt fell into a pattern of meeting up with old friends who were on their long summer vacation. Most of those who had left would only be able to travel to Lima on Kurt's second week there, and so he found himself almost consistently booked off between friends and family. He was berated more than once for spending his summer studying rather than staying in Lima. Although there was much ribbing for beating out Rachel for a solo at the concert.

In fact, the whole modelling experience had been forgotten in the rush of seeing everyone again. It only hit him during his second week in Lima when Isabelle called to give him a heads up. They were running the photo spread in the next which coincided with the runway show.

And suddenly, Kurt was very nervous.

-0-0-0-

Kurt knew they had to have this talk, no matter how awkward or unwanted. They had to sort out the mess that was their relationship, something that was a tangled mess of love, friendship, hormones and trust. And lack of trust.

The brunet sighed as he sipped his usual coffee. He was early, and he took their usual seat at the Lima Bean. He knew they had to talk. Blaine was coming to New York after a summer abroad with his family. The Andersons were trying. His mum was supportive, Cooper was more attentive and his father was finally coming around. It was something the man realise after being introduced to Blaine's boyfriend's father. Kurt had to smirk at that. There was a reason why Burt Hummel was a successful politician.

No, but they had to talk about them. About everything. And it was going to be hard.

It was heart wrenchingly adorable when Blaine stopped at the table, eyes wide as he checked the time on his pocket watch, looking horrified at the thought of being _late._

"I came here early," Kurt cut in the apology on Blaine's lips, "I needed to get out of the house for a bit. Dad's trying to guilt trip me into staying the whole holidays."

"Oh," Blaine says, slightly confused but sits down anyways. Kurt resists the urge to giggle. Sometimes Blaine is more puppy-like than the dapper gentleman he is.

Kurt rolls his eyes as he stands, and half-asks "Your usual order?"

It's quite ridiculous. Blaine doesn't drink anything else.

"Oh! Wait, let me," the newly graduated senior tries, and fails to buy the round of drinks. Instead, he wisely sits down at the look Kurt throws at him.

Kurt returned with the two drinks and sat down. The table descended into a slightly awkward silence. Neither boy knew how to begin on anything they had to talk about.

So much had happened in the last year. NYADA, New York, the distance and the miscommunications. It piled up and eventually broke them. But it didn't break them. It broke the trust but not the comfort. If anything, the almost wedding showed that. No matter what happened, no matter who caught his eye in New York; Blaine still made Kurt's heart skip a beat.

"It's been on hell of a year," Kurt eventually gets out and winces at the connotations at his statement. He quickly adds, "Do you know which college you want to go to?"

Blaine's been tense since he sat down. His world had been a roller-coaster of note this last year. He will admit he messed up, even if he had his reasons. There were some really bad choices made, and some regrets. The end of Klaine seemed like the beginning of a downward spiral. The shooting, the fights, they came second at Nationals and Glee was shut down. And the members were scattered among the remaining musical clubs at school.

Sure, he salvaged some sort of friendship with Kurt, but there was no sign of any chance of them getting back together. And letting go of his first love was his biggest regret.

"New York, NYU actually," Blaine admitted after a beat.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Not NYADA? I know you got in."

Blaine shook his head, sighing as he stared at his coffee, "I love musicals but I think I want to go into music production and performance majors. NYU is a better choice."

Blaine didn't know how Kurt would react to that, especially after the pep talk the other boy had given him before his NYADA audition.

Kurt chuckled as he watched Blaine, sipping his grande non-fat mocha, "You were always more Top 40s even if you are obsessed with Disney."

And he smiled. An honest smile.

Blaine let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "You always zig."

Kurt dropped his gaze from the honey-hazel eyes after a moment. He knew that look; it was Blaine's 'I'm so in love with you, how on Earth did I get you?' look. And it still broke his heart slightly.

"Dad's rented an apartment in Bushwick; Rachel emailed me when one in your complex opened up. Sam's moving with me. He's going to NYU for Art and Tina is going to Parsons for fashion but she's planning to stay on campus." Blaine blurted out. He couldn't stand the awkward silence that descended. It didn't make sense, they didn't have awkward silences between them.

Kurt smiled at that, enthused by how the more of their friends were heading to New York.

And they talked. About how everything fell apart, skirting around the actual cheating. Blaine apologised yet again but bit back the pleading to start again. Kurt sighed as he had to admit his part in the break up. He had pulled away, be it consciously or not, by work and he should have noticed. Blaine talked more about his senior year, admitting to details he left out over the phone. Seeing Kurt in person seemed to break away the barriers and he could admit that he was still in love with Kurt.

Kurt paused at that and sighed. The heavy sound broke Blaine's heart, just a little. Kurt admitted his feelings, the ones he forced himself to sort out after weeks of confusion. "I still love you Blaine, but our break up hurt. It broke my trust and, honestly, a good part of my self-confidence. Adam and I were each other's rebound but even then. I just felt like I wasn't enough. Like I wouldn't ever be enough."

-0-0-0-

Edited 2014-09-29. If you see any errors, please message me.

-Amira


	2. Run This Way

Cover

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did. I don't own Seo Joon from Love Rain or Miranda Presley from Devil Wears Prada or Marc Jacobs. In fact, I own nothing but the insanity that lives in my mind. And even that is iffy.

Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric. Kurtana friendship.

Seo Joon is from the Korean drama Love Rain, (I love JGS) who is an arrogant but talented photographer.

I must give thanks to the manga _The One by Lee Nicky_ for inspiration for the modelling part of this story. I used a lot of scenes from that manga because I know nothing about fashion, shoots or modelling.

Boo (my Glee plot bunny) attacked me again. He seems to like Kurtana friendship. And growls at Rachel Berry. He then mutated what should have been 5000 words max into 20000 plus words. It's split into two chapters. Maybe three. Again, blame Boo.

Chapter 2: Run This Way

-0-0-0-

Blaine just looked at Kurt after his admission. He took a moment to really look and _see_ Kurt; the changes that occurred in their year apart. He was more beautiful; taller too. He was more comfortable in his own skin, and yet, more vulnerable. Stronger yet more fragile and Blaine just knew that was his fault.

"I love you," Blaine murmured, hands wrapped around his cup, "I always have. There hasn't been a minute where I haven't loved you. You are more than enough. I just, I thought you were done with me. I thought I had lost you. Just look me in the eyes. I will never, ever cheat on you again."

Kurt smiled slightly at that. It was strangely ironic that Blaine loving him made everything hurt all the more. Blaine loved him and still cheated. If Blaine still loves him; then what was there to stop him from cheating again? Kurt was scratching around his heart to gather up the courage to trust him again. No matter how much he loved him.

'_Courage',_ Kurt mused as he stared at the man he loved.

"So where does this leave us?" Kurt finally voiced the unspoken question. Blaine's head shot up to meet his eyes. The hopeful expression on his face made Kurt suppress a smile. Blaine always wore his heart on his sleeve and his mind on his face.

Blaine took half a heartbeat to compose himself as he tried to find the right words. 'If this is my only chance…'

"I would," Blaine swallowed before trying again, his words coming out stronger. "I would do anything to get another chance, Kurt. I want there to be an '_us' _again. Please, can we be boyfriends again? That there is a chance…"

Kurt couldn't even consider considering his reply, it fell from his lips like an admission, "Me too."

In that moment, Kurt laid it all bare. He told Blaine of his loneliness, how Rachel abandoned him at NYADA. Being the youngest at work and the general bitchiness of Vogue. He spoke about how he didn't want to worry Blaine, worry his father. New York was his dream but it was a scary place when you were alone.

"You're leaving on vacation soon," Kurt added. Unsure of how to breach the topic of actually getting back together. He knew some people would think it was foolish to trust a guy who had cheated on him but this was _Blaine._

"And you're going back to New York for summer classes," Blaine added. He sighed. This was more difficult and heart stopping nervous than the first time.

Blaine winced at that. 'If I had not messed up then I wouldn't have had to ask him out again.'

"We could," Kurt licked his lips as he stumbled through his words, "start again. Talk more. I mean, you are coming to New York. We would only be apart for the summer."

Blaine sat up at that, his eyes gleaming. "Yes! I mean, we should definitely try again. We can email, and Skype and call. I'll be back three weeks before the semester starts. I mean, I moving into the same building as you and NYU is not that far from NYADA. We could find a coffee place nearby and even cook dinner together and…"

Blaine promptly shut his mouth when he realised he was rambling. Kurt just sat there, trying to avoid eye contact.

And the awkward silence fell between them.

"This is ridiculous," Kurt finally said, unable to stand the awkwardness. He gestured at the space between them. "Since when are we like this?"

Blaine shrugged and chuckled nervously, "I just really don't want to mess this up."

Kurt sent his a flat look, "Okay, we need to get this out now. We are doing this again. It means a clean slate; both of us."

Blaine smiled at that, and he reached for Kurt's hand across the table. The gesture was so familiar and yet, it made his heart flutter at the warmth from Kurt's hand as he turned his hand so their palms were pressed against each one another.

"Okay," Blaine replied, eyes locked on blue ones, "we start again. Thank you. I love being your best friend but I _missed being with you_."

And with that, Blaine raised the hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on the inside of Kurt's wrist. Kurt flushed at the simple yet completely Blaine gesture; his fingers softly stroking the part of Blaine's face he could reach.

"Me too," Kurt murmured, as he finally allowed himself to really look into Blaine's eye without feeling guilty. "I was hurt but I never stopped loving you. I guess I just needed time."

Blaine smiled, bright and big. Like Kurt had handed him the world.

Kurt floundered for a moment before he immediately swopped topics. "So, what is your itinerary for your European getaway?"

Blaine's smile stayed as he sat up straighter, his fingers running over Kurt's. "Cooper got a part in a series so he can't come. But Mum insisted we go to London and Paris. We'll go around France first: Nice and then Paris. Then we'll go to London. We'll be staying with my grandparents. The accepting ones. Mum demanded we stay for Fashion Week. I think we are going to Milan, Venice, Amsterdam and a trip to the Alp's before coming back."

Kurt hummed as he grinned, "Fashion Week in London, huh?"

Blaine looked sheepish, "We are spending most of our time in London. I haven't seen my grandparents in three years. Their dad's parents but it was mum who insisted. And you know how she loves fashion. I blame her for my obsession with Vogue."

Kurt grinned at that. "Well, you know how I've been working on this 'secret' Vogue project that I couldn't tell you anything about under pain of death by Isabelle and Anna?"

"Yes," Blaine replied as he looked curious, "You told Santana and Rachel but couldn't tell without signing a confidentiality contract first."

Kurt's smiled grew bigger as he checked his phone. It could work. He would miss four days of summer school but Isabelle said she would help with practice.

"What if I said that project means I'll be in London for Fashion Week?" Kurt said quickly, excitement building. He froze for half a second before adding, "I mean, we could meet up if you want. Not that I'm forcing you because you will be with your family and all. I just thought that since we'll be in the same place we could-"

"Kurt!" Blaine cut the ramblings as he stared at Kurt with wide eyes, "you're going to be in London?"

Kurt nodded, biting his lip as Blaine's smile grew.

"I would love to show you around London. I spent most of my summers over there! And if you're not too busy, maybe we can catch a runway show?" Blaine said, enthused. "Actually, you have to have dinner with my family. My mum misses you and I'm pretty sure my grandmother will disown me if she finds out you were in the country and I didn't bring you over."

Kurt froze at that, and had to ask, "Your grandmother?"

Blaine blushed at that, "My grandmother Katherine. We are pretty close and when she phoned, I told her about you."

Kurt blushed at that, ducking his head to hide the grin in his lips.

"Can you tell me anything about this project now?" Blaine asked, changing the topic slightly.

Kurt looked at him with a smirk, "Actually I can since everything has been finalised so to speak."

Blaine quirked at eyebrow at that.

Kurt leant forward, excitement flushed on his face, "It's kind of crazy and completely insane idea but it turned out pretty good and I earn enough that rent and fees are not a problem for a while. Plus it was a good experience."

Blaine blinked at that while Kurt stopped for a moment to take a breath. His eyes were shinning and Blaine had to smile softly at that.

"I'm the main model for Marc Jacobs' new collection. We did the photo shoot and advertisement spread as a collaboration between Vogue and Vogue dot com. I'm was considering accepting the job to do runway show in London."

Blaine froze in shock. 'Wait… what?!'

It took half a second for Blaine's brain to process what his newly dubbed boyfriend said. His jaw dropped and stared wide eyed at a smirking Kurt. A Kurt who suddenly seemed so much more centred and confident.

"You what?" Blaine stuttered out the question as he tried to wrap his mind around the news. Marc Jacobs, a man they both worship. Kurt, was a model for him? Brain function stopped and rebooted at the mental images of Kurt modelling.

'Actually,' Blaine mused as he really looked at Kurt, 'it makes sense. He's tall and gorgeous and beautiful and when he walks into a room people stare. I mean, miles of pale perfect skin, wide glazs eyes and those cheekbones…'

Kurt took a deep breathe to calm himself at the fluttering of absolute pride of what he did, what he was chosen for.

"The project we were working on," Kurt explained, "was a huge project between Vogue, Vogue dot com and Marc Jacobs. It was an exclusive spread and advertisement campaign. Seo Joon was the photographer. But the whole thing was a nightmare. Everything went wrong Blaine! We lost sites, luggage, _models. _And the terrible trio couldn't agree on anything!"

"Terrible trio?" Blaine had to ask as he stared wide eyed at the information being presented to him.

"Anna Wintour, Seo Joon and Marc Jacobs," Kurt answered before continuing," So when they finally got their act together Seo Joon got the crazy idea to use me as the replacement main model. He got Marc Jacobs to agree and then beat Anna into submission. Isabelle made me an offer I would have been crazy to turn down. I mean, I own a lot of Marc Jacobs clothing now and the pay was ridiculous."

Blaine blinked before he tried to articulate words. He started at the basics. "You met Marc Jacobs?"

Kurt laughed at that, blushing. "I gaped at him before proclaiming my love for him and his work. He was me he was taken, though flattered."

Blaine chuckled unbelievingly at that. "Isabelle got you to work as her PA on such a major project? Kurt, that is amazing!"

The brunette blushed at that as he ducked his head, "I'm now technically a PA and part time Vogue model."

"So, wait. This photographer saw you and picked you?" Blaine asked quickly, leaning forward, intrigued beyond words.

Kurt nodded eagerly. "I was running around trying to find replacement models and balancing my solo from NYADA. I come into work the next day and Isabelle tells me I'm the new model. They said I really fit how they wanted to sell the clothing."

"You're amazing," Blaine blurted out. "I mean, you've always been beautiful and amazing but this is incredible!"

Kurt grinned as he squeezed Blaine's hand lightly, "Well, your boyfriend is now the main face of the new line that will in Vogue, Vogue dot com and in the advertisements. I guess I'll be in London for the runway show. Marc did specifically asked that I participate."

And then he laughed at the ridiculously shocked face his boyfriend had.

Blaine could only stare at the boy in front of him. A boy that had been beaten down for how he looked, how he stood out and now the world wanted to see him for what Ohio had hated. The amazing boy who agreed to date him, again. His boyfriend.

Kurt enjoyed the shocked look, not because it was such a shock that he was good enough to be a model. No, Kurt could see the absolute pride and love on Blaine's face. No, the shock that this whole experience was crazy.

"You realise I need tickets to that show," Blaine said still stunned and so damn proud, "because I will gate crash and end up in a British jail because there is no way I'm miss you model."

Kurt smiled at the faith and it helped beat down the uncertainty that kept fluttering about in his mind. "One for your mum too?"

Blaine gave him a flat look, "She would lock me in the basement and take my ticket."

Kurt laughed at that, loud and free. Blaine just looked at the beautiful boy in front of him. A part of him winced that the whole world was going to see it. See what he had seen in his sophomore year. And he couldn't keep Kurt his secret; his little piece of heaven on earth.

'Who am I kidding,' Blaine laughed mentally, 'he's going to shine so much more than anyone. And I get to see the world realise that.'

"Oh god," Blaine said suddenly. Kurt stopped short and looked at him worried. Blaine stared at him wide eyed. "I'm dating a model."

Kurt really wanted to hit that smug smile off Blaine's face. But he was too damn smug himself.

'Huh, I'm a model.'

-0-0-0-

Kurt got back to New York and hit the ground running. He had a week before he started at NYADA for his summer courses, which he devoted to getting hours in at vogue. He was back at NYADA for five full time courses. He opted to take his new dance class, classical vocals and three theoretical courses. It would free up a lot of him his time in the upcoming year, meaning he could take those extra modules. It also meant Kurt would officially be caught up with Rachel's class. With some creative timetabling, he also was able to work more hours than normal.

Hardison organised, for which Kurt strongly suspects blackmail was involved, because his classical vocal coach for the summer and beyond was Professor Austen Wren from Julliard. There was the awkward star struck moment when Kurt walked into his allocated practice room but it seemed that Professor Wren was genuinely happy to be working with a countertenor, even though he had to come to NYADA to teach him. He often commented how Kurt should be at Julliard and not NYADA because 'Broadway will not appreciate your voice' which drove Kurt up the wall.

Before leaving Lima, Kurt had also phoned and informed Isabelle that he would do the runway show. She promised she would have some of the Vogue dot com models and managers help him with getting ready.

Which meant, over and above the hours he put in as a PA, Kurt was leaning how to walk. Practice, practice, practice.

Isabelle sat through some of those practices, adding her own comments. Whilst Kurt had a fantastic posture, he lacked the finesse of gliding down the runway with the correct attitude. Considering that he had no experience modelling, they said he was doing a good job. But Kurt refused to be just good.

Kurt finished off his NYADA work and he forced himself to practice in their apartment. Thankfully, most of the work form his theory classes was on stuff he already had knowledge of.

Rachel chose to stay in Lima longer, choosing to return just before July began. Her dads insisted that she spend time with them before returning to New York. Like Santana, they were going to work and audition their summer away. Rachel had a calendar of all the auditions scheduled for the summer on the fridge. Even as she waited for the final call for Funny Girl, she would keep auditioning, if only for the experience.

Santana, on the other hand, hadn't gone back home to visit. Her mother came to New York but her family was stilled strained over her sexuality and public outing. Rather, she got a few modelling jobs and was now a regular singer at a bar. She still worked at the diner. She had also gotten Rachel a job there.

Said Latina was watching television while lying on the couch.

Kurt sighed as he looked around his 'room'. There simply was not enough space. Kurt bit his lip. He couldn't move his full length mirror but he couldn't walk with watching himself to see any errors.

"Okay, Porcelain," Santana's voice cut through the curtained barrier, "your sighing is not only annoying but far more interesting that the shit that's playing right now. What's wrong, powder puff? Hobbit got you sexually tense?"

Kurt bit back a groan as Santana's crass, but she was an ally against the insanity that was Rachel Berry. It was strange, but Santana was the better friend of the two. Sure she insulted you; but she insulted everyone. When it all boils down, if you were her friend, she had your back. And that was a comforting thought in any situation.

Kurt pushed the curtained door open only to be met with the frowning Latina.

"Spill, Hummel. Cos I can't eat any of my 'veg out in front of the tv' food. The prissy manager will kill me if I gain any weight."

He sighed as he stepped past her to get a glass of water.

"I don't think I can do this runway show," Kurt admitted. "I just can't get the walk down."

Santana gave him a blank look.

"I look so awkward and every other model at _London Fashion Week_ is a damn professional. I'm going to look like a waddling baby penguin next to them."

Santana's lips were pulled into a smirk, "Well, I know you're not a baby penguin. Hobbit screamed and made you scream when he dropped by in between his flights. And I do mean scream."

Kurt blushed and gaped at her, "What?! You were not here! You left!"

Santana shrugged, "I came back. Heard you hit notes your new professor would love."

Kurt groaned. "I can't even… Santana!"

Santana shrugged but her gaze softened. "It's awesome that you two are back together. Everyone knew that the two of you would be the couple that made it. Brit says Blaine was a mess last year. I know you were too."

Kurt just looked at her, slightly shocked but grateful. Rachel had called him crazy to take Blaine back. His dad had understood. And so did Santana it seemed.

"You two are happy. Plus you make hot porn."

"Santana!"

Kurt put down the glass of water, face red as a tomato.

"Okay!" Santana waved a hand at him, "calm your pants. Hobbit is across an ocean so no getting excited. Now what's this about not being able to walk?"

Kurt groaned and just drank his water. Santana stared at him before moving across the room. She grabbed two coats.

"Come on," she said, offering the light coat, "let go and practice your walk."

Kurt stared at her confused.

"There's no space in here. I know you know this because of your groaning. I thought you were getting some disappointing Skype sex with Frodo."

Santana huffed before dropping the coat on the table so she could put hers on.

"Listen, if there is one thing I know it that you know how to strut. I guess we just got to figure out how to make that into a runway strut."

"It's late."

"Then we'll go to NYADA. They got a shit load of practice rooms," Santana huffed. "Come one Hummel, let's go! Or I'm going to attack those biscuits and my manager will kill me."

Kurt took a deep breath and put on the coat. They grabbed their wallets and keys and made their way to NYADA.

"God no one sleeps at this crazy place," Santana muttered as they searched for an empty practice room. The first three had been taken, in the summer holidays.

They claimed the fourth room. Santana dropped her coat on a chair along with Kurt. They stood there awkwardly before Santana shooed him to the back of the room, facing the mirror.

Kurt breathed deeply before trying to walk like Celine taught him. _Head up, back straight. Chest out. Straight steps and don't look at the floor! Walk with your hips!_

"What the fuck was that?" Santana spluttered as Kurt finished the short runway route. "You walked like you just spent a week being nailed by Anderson."

Kurt flushed at the thought but glared at her. "That's how they told me to walk."

Santana glared back. "Well it's not fucking working. They want you to look like you did in the shoot, right? So why not do the same thing?"

Kurt breathed out harshly though his nose.

"Okay, look," Santana said slowly, obviously trying to be patient. "For one, you're way too stiff. You look like you're in pain. You have the posture already. You know how to walk and keep all eyes on you. You strutted down McKinley every damn day you were there. The jocks called you the Ice Queen."

Kurt glared at that. Santana waved her hand.

"Wait, just ignore the homophobic shit for a second. Kurt, when you walked down the corridor, even the Cheerios noticed. You owned you style and you were unafraid what people may say. You were untouchable. Couple that with the Cheerio confidence and your own diva, you have a strut." Santana finished. She stared at him.

Kurt froze. She was right, in some way. Slowly, he said, "I imagined, when I was doing the photo shoot, that feeling back at school. Of wearing what I wanted and I knew I looked good."

Santana snorted. "So use that. Work it."

And with that she moved across the room to connect her iPod to the sound system in the room.

The music blasted through the empty room as Santana cranked it up. She walked over to join him, facing the music.

"_So I got my boots on_

_Got the right amount of leather_

_And I doing me up with a black coloured liner."_

"Adam Lambert?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Work it," Santana threw back.

Kurt faced forward and raised his head. Shoulders back. Eyes fluttered closed and let the music wash over him.

Exhale. And walk.

Kurt kept his eyes on his reflection as he stepped to the beat, head up and shoulder's back. His hips swung slightly as he demanded attention.

Santana grinned as she watched Kurt Hummel strut as he glided across the floor, complete with the Ice Queen expression on his face. His look dared you to try and be better than him. Dared you to want to be like him. He was untouchable. You could throw what you want at him; hit him down. But he would get up.

His armour was his biggest weapon in the modelling world.

Four poses and a strut back, Kurt turned on his heel and offered an arm to Santana with a smirk. The Latina raised an eyebrow at the challenge. She stepped forward and looped their arms. And on the next beat they were off.

Santana kind of wished they had been closer back at high school. She would have loved to see those homophobic assholes' faces if they walked like this down a corridor.

They owned it.

The practiced for an hour before calling it quits. Kurt was laughing at the end, and Santana was smiling an honest to god smile.

"You're going to make London your bitch," Santana remarked, opting not to wear her coat. Walking was actually quite the exercise.

Kurt huffed at her but grinned, teeth and all. He grin grew as he stared at her.

"What?"

"You should come to London with me."

Santana snorted, "Yeah right. I can't afford your all expenses paid trip."

Kurt shook his head," No, I mean. Isabelle is making me take an assistant. Technically I should be taking someone from the office but you are a Vogue dot com employee. I could get her to let me take you, all expenses paid."

Santana stared at him, gaping.

"I mean," Kurt added, "you'll be working as my PA and managing my schedule and stuff but you could come to London."

"Hummel, you little bitch!" Santana half screamed as she tackled him into a hug, "how dare you even consider taking anyone else!"

Kurt laughed. "Guess we are hitting up London."

"Do you know how much free shit we are going to get at the shows?!"

-0-0-0-

Celine approved of Kurt's walk, saying it was slightly unorthodox but he wasn't an orthodox model anyways.

Isabelle didn't even bat an eyelid when he informed her that he wanted Santana Lopez to be his assistant.

The week leading up to the London trip, Santana was at the main office learning the ropes of being a PA from Kurt whilst handling Kurt, the model, schedule. The office grew used to the snarky banter between the two friends.

Blaine, on the other hand, Skyped every day when he could. Kurt never felt lighter. They had cleared the air between them and they quickly fell into the old routine of just being together, even if they were oceans apart. Santana kept miming barfing at their cuteness but Kurt guessed she cheered them on because it gave some twisted form of hope.

NYADA had already given him the week off, because it was summer and he had a job that took him to London. Teachers gave him his homework in advanced whilst the few classmates Kurt talked to lamented it was not fair he got to go to London.

Kurt waved them off with a grin, saying he would be working. Even if it was Fashion Week. Although, Professor Wren was not amused at his student's request. Kurt had to explain that he had been working at Vogue dot com for a year and this trip was planned months ago and he had to go. He had a major part in the project and his boss insisted. Plus it was all expenses paid trip to London.

Wren sighed and relented, if grudgingly. Kurt grinned and nodded before going back to his scales. Wren had been determined to not only clarify the notes Kurt could hit, but to increase the range of notes. He swore Kurt would be able sing a range of four octaves when he was done with him.

The only drama of that week was packing and the return of Rachel.

"I'm back," Rachel sang as she walked through the door, luggage wheeling in behind her, "now I know you've missed me and my voice. This summer is going to be amazing! If all goes to plan, I will have a lead role in Funny Girl! Call backs are happening in the next week!"

Kurt and Santana yelled their greetings but did not come out of their rooms. Rachel frowned at that but shrugged it off. She made her way to her room.

"Kurt!" Santana yelled in the small apartment. Rachel jumped in shock but it was Kurt who yelled back that there was no need to yell.

"Shut it, Hummel. I have the coat you need to take, no buts! Isabelle gave it to me for you," Santana said as she made her way to the hurricane Kurt's room. Kurt looked up from packing and frowned.

"I was planning on taking my McQueen," Kurt replied but took the offered coat bag.

Santana rolled her eyes, "You're modelling Marc Jacobs. You can't wear other brands. Isabelle's orders or she'll have my ass."

'Isabelle's orders' were the magic words.

Kurt groaned but he lovingly took out the coat he had been planning to pack.

"Oh come on, Kurt. You've been given thousands of dollars of free clothing."

"I know," Kurt grumbled, "but it's so restricting to only use a few labels."

Kurt moved grabbed a clothing bag from the bed and held it out to her. Santana took it, curious.

"Isabelle's orders," he said with a smirk, "you're my PA so you need to dress in Marc Jacobs at the after party."

Santana opened the bag and peaked inside before shrieking. The dress was a sexy black number with silver detailing she had considered stealing when she saw it in the Vault. She knew Kurt saw her love it and she had no doubt he pointed his boss at the dress.

"I'm going to look so fucking hot in this!"

Rachel suddenly appeared in the entranceway of the room. She looked at Santana holding the dress with wide eyes. "You got us dresses? When's the after party?"

Kurt and Santana traded looks and after a brief silent battle, Kurt turned to Rachel. "Um, Rachel. Sorry but I only have a dress for Santana."

Rachel opened her mouth but Kurt quickly added, "She's coming to London with me as my PA and she needs the dress for the London after party."

Brown eyes flickered between the two figures in the room, before she quietly said, "Kurt if you wanted to take a friend to London, I would have come back to New York earlier!"

Kurt shrugged at that, "Santana helped me a lot."

"Yeah, but Kurt," and Rachel started pleading, "think of what this could mean for my career! All the stars of West End attend London Fashion Week! I mean, I'm really auditioning to get experience but I'm going to be Fanny so I won't be accepting any parts. Please Kurt?"

"Yeah," Santana cut in, "and I'm a new model. This is just as much as a chance for me. And it's a job. I have to make sure princess here gets where he needs to be, dressed as he should be, on time. It's not going to be fun and games for the whole five days."

"I just," Rachel said, looking at Kurt with hurt eyes, "I thought I was your best friend."

"Rachel," Kurt sighed, "you are my friend. One of my best. And so is Santana. And she actually works for Vogue so the company would pay her expenses."

Rachel gave him a betrayed look before turning around. A few moments later, they heard the front door slam shut. The two looked at each other and sighed.

The weeks following Kurt's announcement of modelling and his solo, Kurt was strongly reminded of Rachel from high school. The girl who would do anything to be on top; to be the best. The version of Rachel Berry who couldn't stand to see anyone do better than her. Kurt, rationalised, that the saving grace was that while Rachel was not happy, she at least didn't try and send him to a crack house or something. She had matured quite a bit during high school and Kurt was thankful. At least he hadn't been in danger from sabotage, blackmail and manipulations. He liked to think that grew up from those days as well.

-0-0-0-

"Isabelle," Serena popped her head into the office, "Celine called. You need to go down."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow at that before returning to her computer. She opened the schedule of the modelling department, and Celine's in particular.

"She's working with Kurt," Isabelle summarised.

Serena nodded and she grinned, "Apparently, Mr Hummel found his inner model and he's ready for London. She wants your approval."

Isabelle hummed as she logged off. "Kurt did mention his friend had been helping. The new model we signed, Santana Lopez."

Serena nodded as her boss exited her office, and called out to the retreating figure, "Your next appointment is at two!"

Celine smiled when she saw Isabelle Wright enter the room. The modelling instructor had her doubts when her boss had brought in the boy Kurt Hummel. She could see the appeal to use him as photography model. He skin would simply glow under the lights. But he barely made the height requirement for a runway model. And when he walked, he was painfully self-conscious.

She knew she had her work cut out. And she hadn't thought Kurt would be ready for London. But he walked in that day and left her speechless.

"Kurt! Take it from the top!" Celine called over the music that was playing. Isabelle stopped next to her, and watched.

Kurt stepped onto the small runway that took over most of the room. He paused at the back and posed, as per training. But there was the air in his attitude that caught your eye. He stood, posture perfect, head high and gaze cool. Isabelle couldn't put her finger on it, but he carried himself like he was above everyone else. That you could throw what you wanted but he wouldn't stop. He looked good and he knew it.

And then he started walking.

'No,' Isabelle smiled, 'that's a strut like the best of them. It wouldn't work if he was anything but a main model. He walks like he is on top of the world.'

A strong glide, power coming from his hips that gave the lightest of sashays. Long steps to show off long legs and an expression of ice but supremacy.

Kurt finished his route and Celine cut the music. The other models stopped their rehearsal.

"He's ready," Isabelle stated with a smirk as Kurt approached them, a slight flush on his cheeks. "What was the inspiration?"

Kurt snorted delicately, "Santana reminded me what they called me in high school when I walked down the corridors."

Isabelle quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Ice Queen."

~0~0~0~

Kurt had sighed for the umpteenth time in six hours. He was in economy and sitting next to Santana. The Latina was taking advantage of the international laws stating that 18 years olds could drink alcohol on international flights and sipping something or the other.

Flying 12 hours across an entire ocean was nerve wracking without having to sit next to his crazy friend. They were flying ahead of time to London. Marc wanted him there almost week before the show, meaning the pair flew off after Kurt's last lesson at NYADA. They would land in London on Saturday afternoon and hit the ground running. Someone would meet them and take them to the hotel to freshen up. Santana would be sharing a room with him. Kurt had already traded television rights for extra bathroom time. And then, they had to be at the House of Marc Jacobs.

He would fly back on Sunday the following week and had class at NYADA the next day. Kurt foresaw him being dead on his feet. If he didn't die from nerves first. The photo spread was hitting Vogue on Wednesday (British time) and the runway was on Friday. Saturday night was dinner with Blaine's family and then he was on his way back to New York on Sunday.

"Hummel," Santana said seriously, "get some rest."

Kurt looked at her with a raised an eyebrow. She had an empty glass in her hand.

"That was water Porcelain. We both need to be on our A-game when we get to London. So get some rest because you cannot have bags under your eyes."

He smiled at Santana and nodded. She had ensured that had been pre-booked into seats that were far from the toilets and by the window. She had shoved him into the window seat while she took guard by the aisle. It didn't miss Kurt's attention that it made it easier for him to sleep.

The rest of the flight passed quickly as they both slept until the flight attendant had to wake them up for the breakfast/lunch they would eat before landing.

After a bumpy landing, a long queue at border control and Santana's spectacular lunge for their baggage off the conveyor belt. The dirty look from the frazzled mother of three made them snigger and totally worth it.

"So, we have someone meeting up. They should be holding a Vogue sign with our names at the international arrival gate. If there isn't, I will cut someone," Santana said with venom, "But first."

She grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled his towards a foreign exchange. "We need some cash for emergencies. The rate sucks at airports but better safe than sorry."

They both exchange dollars for pounds, some personal money and some petty cash from Isabelle. They exited the gate, Kurt pushing their trolley of three rather large bags. Santana was on her phone and PDA already.

Moving slowly, Kurt looked out for the elusive board, but stopped short when his gazes met with something else. Santana almost crashed into him when he stopped so abruptly. She opened her mouth and promptly shut in when she saw what stopped him.

Blaine Anderson was standing holding a huge bouquet of roses, and a smile. Looking as dapper as ever.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Santana muttered. "Are we in Lifetime movie?"

Kurt was off, leaving the bags with Santana and not caring about the flowers, hugging Blaine.

"Blaine! What are you doing here?" Kurt practically squealed.

Blaine laughed, hugging his boyfriend with one arm whilst trying to save the roses. "My gorgeous boyfriend is in London. Of course I am going to meet at the airport."

Kurt laughed, "You do know I have to go to work."

"I know. I know," Blaine replied, "And that is why these are for you. Plus, I haven't seen you since New York."

Kurt accepted the flowers with a blush and a smile.

"And these are for you, Santana," Blaine added, handing her the box in his other hand. Santana raised an eyebrow at that but took it anyways. They were chocolates, expensive ones too.

"If this is a bribe, I expect more if you want to smex princess in our hotel room and need Auntie Snix to disappear for a few hours."

Kurt blushed and glared at her but Blaine smirked, "Duly noted."

"And we have to go so say your gay goodbyes. The assistant is heading our way. I said look for the rainbows coming from the gay love between the porcelain doll and his bowtie wearing boyfriend carrying roses."

Kurt rolled his eyes but kissed Blaine anyway. The pair refused to move from each other's arms until a woman dressed in red approached them.

"Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez?" she asked, iPad in hand.

Santana bitched at her for being late, ignoring her apologies.

"Klaine! Break it up," Santana cut in, "We need to go."

And they were gone like a whirlwind, leaving Blaine standing alone in the airport. It gave a terrifying sense of déjà vu.

'No, not this time. I'm not messing my second chance.'

-0-0-0-

Thanks to his busy schedule Kurt didn't get a chance to see much of London apart from form the quick walks between subways, locations and taxis.

But it also made him lose track of time. The 'last minute details' that needed to be checked and redone were near endless. On the upside, Santana and he had been given a pass for most of the runway shows that week. It meant that when they weren't working they were checking out the competition or sleeping.

"Kurt! Wake up!" Santana shook him awake.

Kurt groaned but acquiesced at her request as he sat up. "What the hell, Santana? We have the morning off!"

"Change of schedule. Get dressed, we'll get breakfast on the way."

Kurt groaned as he saw that it was a little after 8. By 9, they were ready to leave the hotel. Kurt cringed at the fact that he now had Santana to dress him. She had swopped out his coat for the blazer from Marc's new collection. Kurt just went with it. She always had some order for whatever action she took.

Santana and him headed to the subway, and used their week-passes. Kurt let Santana lead him around. The girl had memorised the London underground map in one day and used it like a Londoner.

"Come on," she pulled on his arm, "this is us."

Kurt followed her. He knew this stop. They were heading were Fashion Week was hosted. He frowned but shrugged it off.

She pulled him to the side walk and power-walked down the street, dragging Kurt along for the ride.

"Santana, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Kurt groaned as they abruptly stopped.

The Latina said nothing as she handed him a magazine she had picked up from the rack in front of them. Kurt vaguely noted that they were in from of a small stall that sold newspapers and magazines and the like.

"Congratulations Porcelain, you're officially famous!" Santana said with a smirk.

Kurt stared at the magazine in his hands as he vaguely heard Santana speak. He had forgotten that it was Wednesday.

Vogue magazine had him on the cover. Kurt Hummel was on the cover of Vogue magazine!

"Holy shit," Kurt said in a low voice as he stared at the picture with wide eyes. It was one of the first photos from what he could recall. That gorgeous suit he would sell his first born for. Kurt almost didn't recognise himself. His eyes were staring straight at you, looking vividly blue against the grey background. It was the one where he had been pulling his tie off.

"You think that's impressive? Check that out," Santana added, pointing to something behind him.

Kurt turned around, half afraid of what was there. The sight he was met with made his jaw drop.

Marc Jacobs had hired out a billboard near Somerset Hall. Splashed across said billboard was the group shot of seven models decked out in the latest Marc Jacobs' fashion, with Kurt front and centre. It advertised the show on Thursday and the new line hitting the stores on Friday.

"Holy shit!" Kurt muttered again as he tried to process what he was seeing. It was like everything was finally hitting him: he was an international model for one of the biggest fashion houses.

He brought out of his daze by the sound of a camera and turned to glare at Santana. She merely smirked as she tapped away on her phone.

"What the hell did you just do?" Kurt questioned.

"Just snapped a photo and tweeted it. Isabelle has a copy too," Santana replied, nonchalantly, "It's not every day Vogue has a model debut like this. Plus, apparently people are loving the people piece they did on. Something about being a PA that 'stumbled into fame' is 'connecting with the readers' so they can dream big."

"Are you going to pay for that or not?" came the very British voice from behind them. Kurt turned around and blushed slightly at the owner of the newspaper stand.

"Chill old man," Santana cut in as she rummaged her bag for cash, "We were just taking the awesomeness that is my friend here. Kurt Hummel is officially an international model, taking the cover of Vogue in his first job."

Kurt's blush deepened but smiled at the magazine in his hands.

The old man looked at Kurt with narrows eyes before they widened and glanced at the billboard and then to the stack of Vogue magazines. He grinned at the pair before picking up another copy of Vogue and a marker.

"Well, Mr Hummel was it? How about this: you sign one of these for me and we'll call it even. I have a daughter who loves this magazine. She would be murder me if I didn't get your autograph," he said with a smile.

Kurt had to give a shocked chuckle at that as he looked wide eyed at Santana. The girl laughed as she raised an eyebrow. Kurt took that as the okay to sign the magazine.

"Thanks," the man said with a grin.

"No problem," Kurt replied, "Thanks for the magazine."

He turned to Santana and stared wide eye at her, "I just signed my first autograph."

"I know, I just tweeted that. And Vogue dot com retweeted it."

The two looked at each other and grinned. It was strange but beautiful friendship.

"Come on," Santana finally said, "there actually was a reschedule. We just need to check in at Marc Jacobs and then Vogue HQ. Then we are both free for the rest of the day. Tomorrow is the final run through and then its show time."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the girl but followed her lead. They ended up being able to just walking into a meeting with Marc, who had a rare free moment when they arrive.

"Kurt!" the man grinned as he opened his arms to hug the American boy.

Kurt froze at the action even as he hugged back.

Santana laughed at the amused expression Marc had at the pure wonder on Kurt's face. "Out of everything that has happened today, you've shocked him the most. I honestly think you just sent him to gay heaven. He's like your biggest fan."

Marc laughed at that, "And I'm grateful for that! The spread was fantastic. We had to increase the number of seats for the how, and even that's old out. And there is still a demand! We had to add two more rows for some A-listers and Miranda Presley just confirmed her attendance."

"Everyone is talking about the newcomer," someone added from behind them. Kurt turned to see the perfectly cool Seo Joon standing at the door. "The press questioned me more about you than about the actual shoot."

"Seo Joon," Marc greeted with a smile, Kurt numbly adding his own greeting. "You're in London?"

The Korean shrugged, "I wanted to see the show. Any chance I can get two seats or is it that sold out?"

"I'll work something out," Marc waved his hand at his assistant. Instead, he moved a rather pale Kurt to a chair, "Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded as he sat down.

Seo Joon snorted, "I just wanted to see the end of the project from hell."

Marc laughed at that but looked at Kurt with a worried expression.

"He's fine," Santana said as she shooed the man away from Kurt, "Just give him some space. He's been hit with a few surprises today."

Marc nodded, ignoring Seo who made himself comfortable and turned to her. "I called you in because I need to speak to you."

Santana nodded as she opened up the organiser on her iPad, "What do I need to change?"

"Nothing, I was actually wondering if you would model tomorrow," Marc said plainly, "Isabelle mentioned you were friends with Kurt and helped him with his walk. And that you are a model. Turns out, I swear this project is cursed, one of our models fell and injured her ankle. She can't walk tomorrow. You know the order and the runway, so I'm offering the position to you first."

"She'll do it," Kurt cut in, "Santana will do it."

The Latina stared at him wide eyed, but the ex-cheerleader brushed her off. "Satan, this is one hell of an opportunity. You will do it. Because if I can walk it, so can you."

"Well," she managed to pull herself together, "looks like I'm a junior model for Marc Jacobs. Watch it Porcelain, I'm going to catch up fast."

Kurt grinned at that, as he raised his chin, relaxing in the chair like he owned the world, "Bring it on Satan."

"How long have you two being friends?" Seo cut in as he traded looks between the two, "you have good chemistry."

Kurt and Santana looked at each other and laughed.

"We've known each other since high school," Kurt said, face red from laughter, "We are roommates now along with another girl from high school."

"I'm lesbian and he's gayer than a rainbow, apart from his brief stint dating my ex-girlfriend and my stint as a beard for a guy that was in love with him," Santana added, wheezing from laughing.

Seo and Marc blinked at that, before the Frenchman said, "You had the most interesting high school life."

"You have no idea," two models at the same time.

Santana signed a pile of forms, as well as the late minute correspondence from Vogue. Isabelle was grinning like a cat that ate the canary. Vogue was published but she rushed an article on Santana's new status as a model on the website.

It was lunchtime when then made their way to Vogue to see what Miss Wright wanted with them. They grabbed bagels on the way, laughing at every newsstand they passed and yet another billboard advertising Marc Jacob's new line.

The meeting at Vogue was quick, just an update and congratulations on the spread.

"Now we're free," Santana announced when they left the office of the Ice demon. Kurt paused for moment in the busy corridor.

"Come on," he said as he pulled her to the elevator. Instead of pressing down, he pressed the button for upwards.

The ended up taking the stairwell to get the roof. Thankfully the wind was not strong even though they were thirty floors up.

"If you're planning to jump, I would like to remind you that not only would you break a hobbit's heart but you would ruin my chance at a modelling career and for that, I will resurrect you and kill you slowly," Santana said plainly.

Even if the view was gorgeous.

"I'm not planning to jump," Kurt replied with an eye roll, "I did a lot of practicing on the roof of our apartment."

He glided across the roof to the other end before turning.

"It helps me imagine the world at my feet," Kurt added, "I thought we could get some practice in."

Santana just looked stunned for a moment.

"How did you know?"

"What that you are nervous about the show?" Kurt asked. He shrugged, "Anyone would be. Plus, your walls came up to hide it. And I know that because it's what I've done."

"Why weren't we friends in high school?"

"Because it was McKinley and I was the awkward, Broadway loving gay kid and you were the hot cheerleader," Kurt replied with a shrug. "Too much bitch in one friendship for one school."

Santana grinned, "Who would have thought that we would be the first to be famous from our little band of misfits."

"Mr Shue's money was on Rachel."

Santana snorted, "Please, he drooled over her to point it was creepy."

"And we are going to force them to see us. Nothing we haven't done before," Kurt replied with a little more than his usual sass. "Now quit stalling. Head up, and walk from your hips. Time to own the world, Santana Lopez."

~0~0~0~

It was early, going on five when Burt Hummel pulled up to the nearest convenience store that would be opened and actually carried Vogue magazine. Carole was already in the kitchen, waiting anxiously with a pot of coffee. Even Finn, who had come home midweek to await the news together with his family.

Burt bustled into the store and made beeline for the magazine rack. There wasn't any Vogue. He cursed mentally and made his way to the cashier. The guy behind the till, Burt knew from experience, was the owner.

"Hey Neal," Burt greeted, his eyes spotting the piles of new magazine's at his feet.

"Burt!" the middle aged blond greeted, "What can I do for you at the ass crack of dawn?"

"I need your new Vogue magazine," Burt blurted out.

Neal raised an eyebrow at that but nodded, "It just got delivered. I need to add it to the system. Did your kid send you out at 5 am for it?" He had to ask in disbelief. Everyone knew that Burt's kid, Kurt, was a queer one. Sure the kid was gay but he was a good kid.

Burt laughed at that, and explained," No, Kurt's in London. He works for the online Vogue. He ended up modelling for the last project he worked on. I wanted to get a copy before I called him."

Neal raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment. "How about I give you a copy to look through while I enter it on the system?"

Burt smiled gratefully and nodded. Neal heaved the wrapped stack onto the counter, and used a craft knife to open the packaging. He froze when he moved the brown paper.

"Burt man…." Neal looked at him wide eyed. He was a simply guy. He knew next to nothing but he knew that the Vogue he got was an international magazine. He wife had drilled that much into him. He picked up the first magazine and turned it around for Burt to see. "You kid is on the cover of _Vogue?_"

"Holy shit," Burt murmured as he took in the picture of his son that was on the cover of Vogue. He baby boy, who looked grown up and _sexy_. "Neal, buddy. I think I'm going to need more than one copy."

Neal nodded, still staring at the magazine in slight shock. He could read. The words on the cover stated that 'Exclusive! Marc Jacobs Summer Line!' and 'Meet Kurt Hummel, Vogue PA turned Model!'

"Open it!" Neal urged, forgetting about the till.

Burt ripped open the plastic, dropping the extra pamphlets and items on to the counter. He flipped to the contents page before going directly to the photo spread. And there were pages, in which every photograph, Kurt was front and centre.

And he looked beautiful. And bigger than life.

And then there was the article about him. Burt read it out aloud at Neal's prodded. His mind spun at what was written.

_Kurt Hummel, 19, from Lima, Ohio, Lives in NYC._

_Currently a student at the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts and part time PA to Isabelle Wright at Vogue dot com. _

_Award winning photographer insisted on using Kurt Hummel as the main model and is quoted, "It's like seeing a polish diamond left in the dirt. Kurt Hummel has a quality that shines on film. I was just lucky to see it first. He brings a level of class; an aura of being untouchable when he steps into the room. You notice him." _

"_Kurt Hummel brings out what inspired this collection. I am extremely happy with how he showcases my clothing," Marc Jacobs gushes when questioned at his unconventional choice of main model, "I look forward to not only working with him again but to see how far he goes in both the modelling world but on the stage as well."_

"_I have no experience at modelling," Kurt Hummel replies in a dry yet amused tone, "this was a crazy idea and I was caught up in the whirlwind. But I wouldn't change a thing. I would say my inspiration for my 'cool as ice and untouchable aura' comes from High school. I mean, I grew up being the only out gay kid in the middle of Ohio. I got a lot of abuse for that alone but I love high fashion and dressed like it. I spent four years refusing to be beaten out of who I am and what I loved, so I learnt how to walk down a corridor full of hate and just let it roll off me and hold my head high. I never thought that four years of bullying would ever help me in anyway, but guess I was wrong."_

_High school friend and fellow Vogue model, Santana Lopez added, "When Kurt walked the halls in one of his crazy outfits, whether you loved or hated him, you noticed him. He's always walked as if nothing could touch; that he was better."_

_Kurt Hummel will be featured at the Marc Jacobs' Runway Show at London Fashion Week at the request of Marc Jacobs' himself. All eyes will on the newcomer as this Cinderella story plays out._

"Burt," Neal said in all seriousness, "You're kid is famous."

Burt's grin practically split his face, "I know! About damn time people saw him shine too. Neal, I think I'm going to need five copies of these."

The chaos that descended on the Hummel-Hudson household was of epic proportions. Finn kept staring at the magazines and Carol kept bursting into squeals. As she read and reread the magazine.

"Burt, you have to go to McKinley," Finn blurted out over breakfast. They had calmed down somewhat. "I have to go to class but Mr Schue will be so excited to see this! I mean, I need to text the other glee members. I wonder if Rachel has seen this yet. Or Mercedes." 

Burt nodded with a grin, "And that cheerleading coach. No matter what, she always had Kurt's back."

Carol smiled at them, "You two take these copies. I'll pick another one up. It's not every day I get to show off that my son is on the cover of a magazine to the girls at work."

Finn looked ta his mum with wide eyes, "Will you get Kurt to Skype me after he talks to you guys? I need to get back to the dorms."

"Sure honey," Carole replied as she opened the magazine again. She turned to Burt and asked, "I think these will look wonderful framed, don't you?"

When they all headed out, Burt had to go open up the garage first. He proudly placed one magazine on the small table in the waiting area. He also took down a framed photograph of one of the many sports cars that littered the wall behind the front desk. Instead, he put up the hastily framed cover of Vogue next to the family picture.

A quick word with one of his senior employees, Marty, to take charge, Burt could leave; two magazines in hand. One for Schuester and one for Sylvester. He made his way to McKinley, and made his way to the teacher's lounge. He was hoping to catch the two before school started.

Burt Hummel entered the teacher's lounge and grinned when he saw Schuester was sitting with his wife Emma. Sylvester was there as well, as well as Finn's old football Coach Biest. Burt briefly wondered if Schuester found a way to keep the Glee club going. The kids had been devastated when the club officially shut down but from what Finn said, they had all gone and joined some other musical group or the other. And they met regularly, to 'just jam'.

"Burt Hummel!" Sue Sylvester greeted when she noticed his presence, "Both your spawn have graduated from these halls. What do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Despite their competition for Congress, the two had a good rapport built around Kurt. Burt suspect that despite what Sue said, she had a soft spot for Kurt.

Burt smiled as he approached the table. "I have some news, I thought you would like to know."

They smiled at him. Biest grinned, "I watched Finn's last game. Even if he got five minutes on the field, kid's good."

Schuester smiled and nodded, "Rachel called about her callback from Funny Girl. We are really proud of her."

"The old glee kids are really making a name for themselves," Emma added, "Mercedes signed a record deal from what I hear."

Sue Sylvester stared down Burt Hummel and the smile never left his face. "What has sweet Porcelain achieved that brought you here today?"

Burt grin, if possible, grew broader, "He couldn't tell anyone until it was released because of his contract, but…" And he put down a copy of Vogue.

"Oh my," Emma said as she stared wide eyed at the cover of the magazine, "is that _Kurt?"_

"Yup," Burt said proudly, "Kurt was asked to be the main model for this new line of clothing while he was helping out at Vogue dot com. He's in London right now. He's going to be in the runway show at that Fashion Week. He also helped Santana get a job at Vogue as a model. She's with him right now."

"Sweet Porcelain is a model," Sue said quietly at the shocked table, "I always knew that he would make it."

"How?" Will Schuester asked as he stared at the magazine in shock, "and isn't this an international thing?"

Burt shrugged but he had the biggest grin on his face, "Kurt is an officially an international Vogue model and it was luck mostly. Apparently the hot shot photographer they flew in loved how he looked and talked the designer into getting Kurt to be the main model."

Sue nodded, "It is expected. He was always striking in appearance. I expect that of all my Cheerios. And he's sticking up for his teammates? He was always captain material. He is getting paid as a supermodel, correct? He should know how to read and strong arm contracts. It is part of standard Cheerio training."

Burt nodded as Emma flipped open the magazine carefully to look at the photo spread. "Yeah. He's told me that he will pay for NYADA for the next year and that he's got quite the safety fund above that. He did mention his boss was impressed that he knew he way around contracts."

Sue nodded, "It is a valuable life skill."

"Kurt is modelling _Marc Jacobs_?" Emma blurted out, turning her wide eyes to Burt. While she was not a fashionista, she did know her way around some of the brands. She loved her Jimmy Choo after all.

"I thought that you would like to see what he achieved," Burt said with a grin as he handed her the other copy of Vogue he had brought. "You were one of his favourite teachers."

With that, Burt said his goodbyes and left. He had a business to run and a son to brag about to his workers and customers. If this wasn't s pit in the face to the homophobic assholes of Lima, he didn't know what was.

"Guess what Will," Sue Sylvester grinned in victory as she pointed to a page with the article written about Kurt, "out of your Gleeks, my Cheeio, and the boy you never gave a solo was the first to become famous first."

Will rolled his eyes even as Biest and Emma 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over the magazine, "Kurt has done something impressive but I don't think being a model equates to being a success in music. Rachel is waiting on a call back for Funny Girl on Broadway."

"That's what you think, Curly. But Porcelain is smart and just as ambitious. Kid knows that by getting his face out there, and mentioning he is a student at that school, they will be begging him to perform for them. Just wait and see. Kurt Hummel may have been one of your singing drones that swayed in the background, but he was also the star singer that led me to my sixth National victory."

~0~0~0~

John Anderson stared at the magazine his wife and son was going crazy over. It had taken him a while but he had come around to his accepting his son's sexuality, and his relationship with his boyfriend. Despite everything, he was happy to see the happy Blaine who had bounced around the house for the last two weeks. He had been overjoyed that he had fixed his relationship with Kurt.

John wasn't comfortable really talking about it but he was happy to see Blaine happy again.

Elsa was beyond happy that Blaine was dating Kurt again. She hadn't been too happy when Blaine had returned from his impromptu trip to New York in tears. In fact, she had been so disappointed when Blaine confessed that he had cheated on Kurt and that was why they broke up.

She had loved Kurt from the first moment she had met him. But more than anything, Blaine had been practically floating with happiness. That was the sole reason they had agreed to send Blaine to that public school. Their son who had been beaten down and near broken, found something, someone worth fighting for. He found a reason to face the world rather than hide away behind a mask.

"Wait," John cut in the gushing at the breakfast table. His parents were watching with amused expressions as his wife and son babbled on. "What is happening exactly?"

Blaine was beaming, giddy as he bounced around in his seat, "Dad, you know my boyfriend Kurt?" Here, he paused to watch his father, just in case he reverted to his old self.

John rolled his eyes at that, "The boy you have been in love with since sophomore year, Yes, I know Kurt."

"Well, Kurt is in London. That was why I went to the airport," Blaine babbled on, excitement shining in his eyes. "He works part time for Vogue dot com and he was working on this huge project. Well, long story short, he ended being asked to be the main model for Marc Jacob's new line! I mean, it's crazy! He's one the cover of Vogue and he's the main model for the photo spread and the advertisement campaign and he's modelling on the runway on Friday."

Blaine paused to catch his breath as John tried to process what he son had just said.

"So Poppy," Katherine Anderson cut in, "your Darling is modelling in that magazine?"

Blaine turned to her, eyes still wide as he nodded vigorously.

"Well then, bring it here! Let me see the boy that has you practically floating off the ground in happiness," she said with a smile.

Elsa grinned at her son as she handed over the magazine. Blaine shuffled down the table and gave his grandmother the magazine. She held it up and eyed the boy on the cover.

"My word, Poppy. Your Darling is quite the beauty," Katherine finally said with a grin. She turned to her husband, "What do you think, dear?"

Blaine just beamed at that as he heart swelled with pride at his boyfriend's success. Not to mention it was one hell of an ego booster when your boyfriend is a model.

"Oh, and he managed to get us seats to the runway show," Blaine added, almost forgetting the detail in the wake of photographs. 'I really need to go and buy a few more copies.'

"We have tickets for Marc Jacobs?!" his mum squeaked in happiness and started gushing, again.

John sighed and winced at the beating his credit card was going to take once his wife hit the shops after Fashion Week.

~0~0~0~

New York was the perfect place for Rachel Berry. She breezed through her morning routine, feeling far too lonely in the empty apartment. It was disconcerting to be so alone in such a big city. So she busied herself.

Rachel grabbed her bag, double checking that she did have her resume, and she was out the door.

'Today, I'm getting the role,' she told herself. 'If you don't believe you are a star, how can the casting director?'

She took the subway across town. It was the price she paid for having an apartment she could actually afford: being so far from almost everything.

Getting off the subway, she made a beeline for the little cart that sold the best bagels ever. She and Kurt had made that little discovery when they splurged on rushed tickets to a play.

"A vegan special please," Rachel requested as she handed over the correct amount of cash. The man nodded at her before she stepped to the side to wait for her bagel.

She would rather use the time to be productive, rechecking her schedule of the auditions for the summer. With the extra shifts she had picked up at the Spotlight Diner, she only had a limited amount of time to attend auditions. But she really would like the extra money. Rachel hated that her fathers' still paid part of her rent.

She accepted her bagel with a smile and made her way down the street, using a short cut to get to the audition hall.

'Sofia is a love struck but religious girl who would never express her love. She will always be virtuous,' she went over the character in her head. 'I just need the perfect song. Or perhaps, I should just go with Rain on my parade. It does show off my voice and talent.'

It made her stop in the middle of the side walk. She ignored the various dirty looks that was sent her way as people bustled around her. Her gaze was locked at the sight that had caught her eye while she had been power walking to her destination.

Across the street, on a billboard in the middle of Broadway was Kurt Hummel. The writing advertised Marc Jacobs' new line and release date. No, but the only person in the photograph was Kurt, dressed in loose clothing that had been sensually ruffled but not tacky, relaxing on a lounge chaise and looking like he didn't have a care in the world. It looked elegant, and the cold gaze screamed 'you wished you looked this good.'

In fact, his whole body screamed it. Kurt Hummel was an Ice Prince and the whole world could see it.

"Oh my god," Rachel muttered. She knew what Kurt and Santana had told him but it seemed it was bigger than what they let on.

~0~0~0~

"This is Kurt Hummel. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible."

Beep.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel! Boo you're in so much trouble! Why didn't you tell me you became a model?! I got the shock of my life when I walked past and saw your face on the freaking cover of Vogue! Boy, you look gorgeous! And holy hell you better call me the moment you step back onto American soil. I want the deets about London and modelling, or I will cut you! Love you boo. You look amazing!"

Beep.

"Kurt! OMG! YOU MET MARC JACOBS! And you're a model? Why the hell didn't you say anything? Anyways, kick ass in London and call me asap when you're back! By the way, if I ever need a model at Parsons, you're it."

Beep.

"Just wanted to say you look amazing in Vogue. Finn messaged all the gleeks. I went out and bought a copy. None of the girls at my dorm here at Yale can believe I know you, even though they've seen the picture of glee club. Break a leg in London and see you soon, okay? Take care of yourself. Bye."

Beep.

"Dude, its Puck. Listen, I don't know much about this fashion stuff but apparently it's a big thing. So congrats man. Oh, and saying that the model Kurt Hummel is our buddy got me chicks, Princess. So, thanks for that! See you when I see you!"

Beep.

"Kurt its Mike. I heard from Tina and Finn about your modelling. Congrats man! I always figured it would be you, Rachel or Mercedes to make it big first. Good luck and maybe we can hang later? I will be visiting Tina before the end of summer. Let me know. Bye."

Beep.

"Hey Kurt. It's Britney. I just wanted to saw you looked really pretty in those pictures and I'm so happy the world can see how special you are. Call me? I miss talking to you."

Beep.

~0~0~0~

It spread like wildfire among the summer students that it wasn't long before it reached Hardison's ears. Although he didn't like to stereotype his students, a good portion of his gay students read Vogue religiously. So when he found a pair furiously discussing the new issue the day it came out, he brushed it off. Until the name 'Kurt Hummel' was thrown around.

Hardison knew that Mr Hummel worked for Vogue dot com, and by extension, Vogue. He also knew he was going to Fashion week in London as part of his job, but details of which he couldn't give without violating his contract.

So it was somewhat shocking when he approached the pair of students as to what they were going on about, they showed him the latest Vogue magazine which had Kurt Hummel on the cover.

'What on Earth?' he had to question. But quickly flipped to the article on Kurt Hummel and read the full 'Cinderella' story of NYADA student and now, part time model.

He blinked. "Huh. So this is why he was going to London."

The students went crazy as Kurt Hummel's status skyrocketed. It was on every NYADA gossip circle and chat room within hours.

~0~0~0~

"You cannot be having a breakdown," Santana bit out as people pulled at her hair and poked her with needles. "Because it's my turn to have a complete meltdown."

It was the morning of the show and they were backstage, getting prepped. It was six hours and counting till curtains up. Santana would have to walk three outfits but Kurt was modelling eleven and practically carrying the second half of the show.

That meant they had almost six hours of panicking.

"I'm going to be sick," Kurt bit out, looking so pale that the make-up artist looked worried.

"Don't you dare pull a Marley on me, Hummel! Or I swear I will commit Hummelcide," Santana shot back as they finished sewing her first outfit while it was on.

Most of the other models were staring at them, smirking at their amateur nerves but the pair honestly didn't care. What they did care about was not fainting on the runway.

"I thought the two of you were soloists," came an amused from the door. Kurt was unable to move because his make-up artist had her claws in his face.

"Isabelle!" Santana greeted with relief in her voice.

"The question is why you're panicking when you get up on stage as a profession?"

"The stage I get up on is not in front of some best of the fashion industry where if I fall on my face I will completely embarrass myself on an international stage," Kurt replied in a dry voice.

Santana groaned at Kurt and try to throw a scrunch up piece of paper at him. "Shut up!"

"So why is this different? You could forget lines or lyrics or fall while dancing on stage," Isabelle pointed out.

"International stage," Santana pointed out.

"But this is what you're aiming for."

Santana and Kurt paused at that. Isabelle smiled at that.

"Good luck," she wished them, "I'll see you out there."

And she was gone.

The hours ticked by and before they knew it, it was time.

"Okay," Santana muttered to herself, "I'm a cold hearted bitch. What the hell am I freaking out for? I got this!"

"You've got more than this," Kurt cut in, a small smile on his lips. "You are going to own this."

Santana nodded jerkily, but smirked, "See you out there."

"Bring it," Kurt added.

"WWMD?"

Kurt actually laughed at that. 'What would Madonna do, indeed?'

It was a blur. The actually show. Kurt could remember standing backstage and then stepping into the light. He remembered walking down the runway like he owned it. He remembered the flashes and the music.

And in the next moment, Kurt was standing next to Marc, clapping at the end of the show. Santana was on his right, smiling as she stood in a gorgeous black number.

And then it was a wrap. He was hustled out of his clothing and into his post-party outfit. Marc and Seo and Isabelle had tackled him, all talking excitedly. Santana joined them as soon as she changed as well.

It was finally time to exhale. Kurt felt his knees give out as he sunk to the ground.

"Shit! Kurt!" Santana cried out in shock as Kurt went down. Isabelle joined her, kneeling beside the shaking Kurt. Marc called for both water and cola.

"I just," he looked at Santana completely pale and in shock, "I just. I did it. I actually did that."

Santana gave an abrupt chuckle. "Yeah, you did Porcelain. You were the lead and you owned it. You walked like you ruled the world."

"He's okay. Everything's just catching up with him," Isabelle informed the two hovering men, although she did take the cola and press it into Kurt's hands.

"Take a few minutes," Marc added, "but you're going to be at the centre of the party."

Kurt flushed at that. Marc and Seo were called out of the room.

Santana snorted, "Don't forget whose waiting for you."

Isabelle looked up at that and grinned, "Is the infamous Blaine here?"

"Oh yeah. Dapper Man is freaking half-British and shit," Santana replied as she forced Kurt to 'drink the damn cola.'

It took a few more minutes before Kurt could pick himself up and let Santana fix his makeup. Isabelle fussed with him clothing before they could leave. Santana still got to wear the black dress with silver detailing as it was from Marc's last collection and she looked drop dead gorgeous in it.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again, decked out in the suit that he first modelled, and that ended up on the cover of Vogue. It had been refitted three times over the last four days til it fit him like a glove and yet he could probably dance in it.

"Ready to be world famous?" Isabelle asked the pair as they walked out of the backstage area and towards the conference room next door where the party was already going on.

Kurt gave an honest laugh at that, eyes shining. "Please, I was born ready."

"You got that right," Santana added before they entered.

"You two go and find Marc. Stick by him. I need to find Anna and we'll join you," Isabelle said over the music before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The two walked towards what seemed like the centre of the party, taking note of how people moved aside for them.

"There they are! My two Vogue models!" Marc cried out, champagne glass in hand. "Santana Lopez, the model who stepped in yesterday and the fabulous Kurt Hummel, the one in a million!"

Kurt smiled and received the hug before stepping to his side, acute aware of the flashing of cameras.

"Kurt, Santana, this is the amazing Miranda Presley, editor of Runway," Marc introduced them to the stern lady everyone was keeping a distance from.

Her cold eyes felt like they were boring into his soul, judging Kurt from the inside out. But, holy shit, he was standing in front of the Miranda Presley.

"It's an honour to meet you, Miss Presley," Kurt managed to say, even if he sounded like Mickey Mouse from nervousness, "I read Runway religiously."

Presley merely hummed, before asking, "How long did you practice for today's show. Mr… Hummel was it?"

Kurt nodded but looked nervous at the question, "A little more than a week."

Miranda turned to Marc, "Who discovered Mr Hummel here? Because that was not the walk of a week's worth of practice."

"Seo Joon," Marc replied, eyes darting nervously to the side. This woman had the power to make or break anyone in the industry. "The photographer."

"Ah, Seo Joon. Excellent eye, for more than just photographs it seems," Miranda continued as she eyed Kurt's form.

"I look forward to seeing you again," Presley said in a cool voice before turning to Marc. "It's a good collection. Send your advertisement and spread to Runway as is. Mr Hummel adds a certain flair to your style."

And she was gone, leaving a gaping Marc. "She complimented my line. Miranda Presley complimented my line."

"And?" Santana questioned, not quite getting the importance.

"If Miranda Presley likes your work, you're guaranteed success," Kurt explained as Marc tried to breath like a normal person. "A compliment is practically a miracle."

Santana blinked, not quite getting the significance, "And her compliment to you?"

"Holy shit," Kurt muttered as his brain caught up with what just happened, "I need a drink."

Without a word, Marc grabbed three glasses off the nearest waiter and handed him each one before downing his own. Kurt followed suit while Santana chose to sip the high class champagne.

They had to smile at some as some big wigs who placed orders by the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Designers, celebrities and media flocked around them, especially when Anna and Isabelle joined the group.

It was after an hour into the party that the pair of models could slip away and get some food. They made a beeline for the buffet table, smiling and accepting nods of congratulations.

"Oh thank Gaga," Kurt muttered as he devoured the first sandwich he could get his hands on. Santana said nothing as she too was eating quickly and as lady like as possible. But they hadn't eaten since breakfast and after the nerves left, they were starving.

"I don't know what I'm eating but its damn good," Santana moaned around the mouthful of food she was trying to swallow.

"They have mini pizzas," a voice said from behind Kurt. A very familiar voice. "They're to die for."

Kurt turned around and threw his hands around Blaine's neck in one smooth motion.

"Blaine!"

Strong arms wrapped around Kurt's waist as he hugged Blaine's neck close, breathing in the faint raspberry scent of his hair gel.

"God Kurt," Blaine breathed into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, "you were _fantastic_."

He pulled back to stare at his gorgeous boyfriend. Somewhere in the back ground they noted that Santana remarked about going to look for pizza.

"I can't even begin to describe," Blaine babbled, arms wrapped around Kurt's trim waist but careful of the clothing. "You took my breath away. I mean, you are gorgeous and beautiful but holy crap you looked out of this world up there."

"Blaine," Kurt cut in, "Breathe honey."

Blaine sucked in a lungful of air before breathing out, "You were perfect and I don't mean the clothes."

Kurt laughed at that. He hugged Blaine close and laughed. His ridiculous boyfriend who knew exactly what to say, even if it was by pure accidental blurting of thoughts. The boy that knew him better than Kurt thought he knew himself sometimes.

Even if their 'break' in their relationship had not been planned or pain-free, it had been good in its own way. They had bot noticed the small changes in the other. They were less Klaine and more 'Kurt and Blaine'. Both a little more secure in themselves and not losing themselves in their relationship.

But dear Teapot on the Moon, Kurt knew he wouldn't survive if Blaine cheated again. 'Happy thoughts,' Kurt forced himself to think as he finally stopped laughing, 'don't think of things like that. He won't. Not again. We'll be better this time.'

Blaine, had some point, joined Kurt in his laughter as he kept his boyfriend wrapped up in his arms. Eventually they both calmed down but they couldn't bring themselves to move; eyes still locked on one another.

"You're just," Kurt said, slightly breathlessly that had nothing to do with their laughter, "you're kind of perfect. Thank you."

Blaine just blinked, as if he couldn't quite believe the sight before him. "As long as I'm your perfect that's all I need."

Kurt almost groaned, and simultaneously melt, as his boyfriend's cheesiness and romantic side.

It was Santana returning to their side that forced them apart. She shoved a plateful of food into Kurt's hands. "He hasn't eaten since breakfast. Eat."

Kurt shot her a glare but ate slowly as the tempting smell of the pizza hit his nose. Blaine merely wrapped an arm about him and they moved away from the buffet table, requesting some water from a waiter.

"You were fantastic Santana," Blaine complimented the Latina as Kurt ate liked a starved man with high class manners.

"You bet your ass I was," she shot back but smiled. "But Porcelain here stole the show. You should have heard the gossip back stage."

Blaine shrugged at that, "He kind of always does."

Then he got a very goofy look on his face as he stared at Kurt with his patented 'Heart Eyes'.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at that as he silently accepted the glass of water.

"My boyfriend is a model," Blaine _giggled_.

Santana burst out laughing at that. "Yeah, Hobbit. You got some major street cred now."

Kurt swallowed his drink before sighing, "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope," Blaine replied with a smirk, "because damn, I lucked out. My boyfriend is an ex-cheerleader, sings like an angel and is a model."

Kurt blushed at that but leaned into Blaine's arms ever so slightly as his boyfriend lightly squeezed him.

"Kurt, darling! You were fantastic!" Elsa Anderson said, as she stepped into their conversation. She grinned at him, showing a pair of every familiar hazel heart eyes, her own curls bouncing in excitement.

Blaine unwrapped his arms form Kurt to take the two bouquets so his mother could hug his boyfriend. Kurt barely managed to move the plate he was holding out of the arm before he had an armful of his 'sort of' mother-in-law.

As Elsa demanded Kurt's attention, Blaine turned to Santana with a smile and offered the bouquet of yellow roses to her. "For a spectacular show and watching out for him."

Santana raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the flowers. "Okay, firstly Frodo, I would watch out for Porcelain regardless and second, you are way too dapper."

Blaine shrugged, "I was raised a gentleman."

"You got game," Santana threw back. She tapped Kurt's shoulder to get attention away from the crazy woman who wouldn't let go of him. "I going to go mingle. I need to get me some connections. But don't leave without me."

Kurt nodded, smiling slightly at the flowers in her arm, at the subtle reminder that they were still working.

"Duty calls?" Blaine asked as Elsa stepped back. Blaine had heart eyes again. And it warmed her heart. She quietly slipped away to have a closer look at the dress one of the runway models was wearing. Blaine would find her.

Kurt sighed as nodded, "Technically, I'm still working. Even if it just standing around wearing this gorgeous suit."

"Well, I get you from tomorrow morning, right?" Blaine asked with a grin. He offered the rather large bouquet of red roses, interspersed with a few blue roses. "For being so fabulously you."

Kurt blushed at that and accepted the offering with a smile. He leaned over to give Blaine a peck on the lips, acutely aware of the cameras around them.

"You really didn't have to," Kurt said as he leaned in to smell his flowers, "the hotel staff are going to be amused when we have to call for another vase."

Blaine grinned unashamed. "My boyfriend just did his first runway. I would do more than just flowers, but since I only get you tomorrow, it will have to wait."

Before Kurt could reply, another voice cut in, "And this has to be the infamous Blaine."

Kurt looked up while Blaine turned, only to be met with the amused smile of Isabelle Wright. She was dressed in a sleek emerald green number but her eyes were locked on Blaine, taking in his fitted pants, corduroy blazer and the bright bowtie.

Kurt smiled as he shifted the large bouquet into one arm, clasping Blaine's hand with his free one. "Isabelle, this is my boyfriend Blaine. Blaine, my favourite boss, Isabelle Wright."

"Pleasure to finally meet you," Blaine greeted as he held out his free hand, a grin on lips.

Isabelle shook his hand but gave Kurt an amused smile. "You weren't kidding about him being dapper and gorgeous. I approve."

Blaine blushed as he looked back to his boyfriend.

"You better keep him away from the office. The girls, and some of the boys, will eat him up. Or try to murder him," Isabelle said with a smirk She turned to Blaine as she added. "There were many a heart broken when Kurt changed him status from 'single and not interested' to 'dating'."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that, but squeezed Blaine's hand gently.

"I'm guessing that I need to get back to mingling," Kurt said as he looked at his boss. She looked sheepish and nodded.

"I need you to meet some people, as does the terrible trio," Isabelle apologetically.

Blaine smiled at Kurt, "You should go. I get you from tomorrow."

Kurt gave that a smile and leaned in to accept the kiss.

"I now understand why you're only flying out on Sunday," Isabelle said with a grin. "You are staying with your boyfriend on a romantic London getaway."

And she winked.

Kurt blushed and groaned slightly. Blaine looked a little gobsmacked. He knew that Kurt said he and Isabelle were close but he didn't realise how close.

"Isabelle!" Kurt blurted, "I'm staying with his family. Blaine's grandparents live here."

"Half-British? Nice catch, Kurt!" Isabelle teased.

"Okay," Kurt announced, "we are going to go."

He turned to Blaine with an apologetic smile, "See you tomorrow?"

Blaine smiled back, raised his hand that clasped Kurt's, and kissed his knuckles. "Bright and early. But mail me when you get back to the hotel. I'll call your room."

With one last kiss for Kurt and a smile for Isabelle, Blaine disappeared into the crowd in search of his mother.

"He's something alright," Isabelle told her PA with a smile, "I can see why you're head over heels in love with him."

Kurt flushed at that but handed off his empty plate a passing waiter, but still held the roses close.

"He looks at you like you mean the world to him," Isabelle said quietly as Kurt straightened his clothing and gathered himself. "He's so in love with you I can practically see the hearts above his head."

"It was never a question about love," Kurt admitted, "We were young and didn't know how to communicate over a distance. We were both so insecure and terrified of the pain of losing one another. We always loved each other. And it made the pain worse."

"Well," she said as she motioned for them to move, "smile in place. We have people to charm, and connections to make. There are some designers who are asking after you. I know you said this wasn't a career for you but it doesn't hurt to have a few side jobs. And I do believe Seo Joon would like us to meet his girlfriend."

"He's _straight_?" Kurt asked incredulously as they smiled at the cameras that went off.

"I know," Isabelle said through her smile, "who knew. He pinged on my gaydar; loudly."

"I think my gaydar is broken," Kurt shot back as they stepped towards Anna, Seo Joon and very pretty girl, smile plastered on his face.

~0~0~0~

Boo is evil and persistent. The second instalment of Cover had to split into two parts.

Read and Review!

Edited 2014-09-29

Please let me know if I missed any errors.

~ Amira


	3. Meet Kurt Hummel

Cover

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did. I don't own Seo Joon from Love Rain or Miranda Presley from Devil Wears Prada or Marc Jacobs. In fact, I own nothing but the insanity that lives in my mind. And even that is iffy. When you say nothing at all belongs to Ronan Keating. Made in the USA belongs to Demi Lovato.

Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric.

The scenes with Blaine's family is inspired by the movie "What a Girl Wants."

Again, blame Boo. He seems to be more of a puppy (I imagine dark brown curly, fluffy puppy with large honey eyes like Blaine) who bites me. A lot.

Chapter 3

Meet Kurt Hummel

~0~0~0~

The next day was insane. Santana was not human as she was up at the crack of dawn. Kurt vaguely remembers throwing a pillow at her and she left for a while.

When he woke up again, at a more appropriate time, it was going on nine am. It was still too early but Blaine was coming at eleven and he still needed to pack some of his clothing.

What did greet him was Santana sitting at the small coffee table in their room reading what looked to be every paper in London and a cup of coffee.

"Your coffee is on your bedside," she said with a grin, "drink it, get dressed and finish your packing. Your boytoy called and is on his way."

Kurt groaned as he sat up. They only got back after 3 in the morning.

"What has you in such a good mood?" he asked as he inhaled the liquid caffeine. "Thank you."

Santana nodded but practically bounced out of her seat and on to the bed next to him. Kurt moved to safe the coffee but Santana pushed the paper in his face.

"We are the talk of Fashion Week," Santana explained. "I mean, you are. They were speculating about you but after last night you were a hit. Marc's new line is in demand and it seems like Miranda Presley made a statement. And in every paper when they mention you, they mention me."

Kurt stared at the paper in front of him. There was a picture of him and Santana along with Marc, Anna, Isabelle and Seo Joon.

"My picture is out there, and Isabelle apparently got some requests for me to model last night," Santana continued. "Doing this with you was like giving my career steroids. So thank you."

"Anytime," Kurt stuttered out as he started reading the rave review of the show: the runway, the clothing, and the models and the 'man that stole the show: Kurt Hummel.'

He licked his lips, "Are we in every paper?"

Santana paused and looked at him. She nodded slowly. "Just about. You being a PA turned model is drawing a lot of attention."

Kurt cursed as he sat back.

"I didn't realise how big this was," he admitted, "not really."

"Hey," Santana nudged him as she took the paper back. She would save copies and take them back with her. "It doesn't change anything. You just have a well-paying, part time job that kind of made you famous."

Kurt smiled weakly at that before downing his coffee. He nudged Santana over so he could get out of bed. "I'm going to shower. I'm pretty much done packing. Are you sure you will be okay staying her alone? You could go back to New York without me."

Santana snorted, "I get extra time in London that is being paid for by Vogue. I'm not leaving. Plus, without you here, I can bring back some hot London girl for sex without traumatising you."

Kurt laughed at that and went to shower.

By the time Blaine knocked on their room door, Kurt was packing away his toiletries. Santana opened the door and greeted him in her own special way.

"Okay Princess, here's the deal," she stated, "you're going off to the Shire with Frodo here. But on Sunday you will meet me here at 8 am. We have a car to take us to the airport."

"Love you too, Satan," Kurt shot back but gave her a hug, "Have fun and please don't tell me about it."

"You have fun and please take pictures," Santana shot back, "or a video. I'm not fussy."

Kurt snorted but waved, with Blaine following pulling Kurt's suitcase. Kurt's arms were full with the two bouquets he refused to leave behind much to Blaine's amusement.

Stepping outside the hotel, Blaine smiled as a black car pulled up. Kurt raised an eyebrow as the driver got out to put the bag in the trunk.

"Kurt this is Robert, he drives my grandparent's town car," Blaine explained. "Robert, this is Kurt, my boyfriend. He'll be staying with us tonight."

Robert smiled and greeted him before opening the door for them.

Kurt turned to Blaine, wide eyed, "Town car?"

Blaine shrugged, "You knew my family is rich."

Kurt snorted at that and he slid into the car, "Yeah, but this is like Gossip Girl."

Blaine entered after him, and Robert closed the door, "My mum doesn't like to advertise wealth. Dad's parents are used this lifestyle. Mum was actually the one who refused to spoil us growing up."

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand with a slightly worried expression. Blaine never showed off just how wealthy his family was. Sure, Kurt had been to his house and seen some of it. But he drove a gorgeous mustang that had been through a lot of TLC.

Kurt smiled his crooked smile, "I guess this week is just a week of crazy."

"Something like that," Blaine admitted. "But this doesn't change us?"

"Never," Kurt replied with a grin.

"Good."

And Blaine pulled his boyfriend into a kiss. If they start making out in the back seat, Robert doesn't say anything.

When they pull up to the house, Kurt turns to Blaine with wide eyes, "Do not tell me you forgot to mention you are, in fact, related to royalty."

Blaine laughed at that, "No, not really. I mean, Grandfather is a gentleman which is less prestigious than a Lord but he made some good investments over the years."

"Blaine, your family has a manor," Kurt replied as he stared at the gorgeous house and the sprawling gardens.

"I'll have to bring you back here sometime," Blaine said casually, "Maybe over spring break? We can have picnics out here and go rowing on the river."

Kurt turned to him, eyes bright. Kurt knew that Blaine _knew_ that was on his bucket list. "You do not play fair, Mr Anderson."

Blaine smirked back, "I have to up my game. My boyfriend is a model, after all."

Kurt groaned at that. First it was being a cheerleader and now a model. Blaine was never going to let it go. Even with Blaine almost being blackmailed into the Cheerios (Class President saved his ass), Kurt's boyfriend strongly maintained that almost was not close enough. Especially when Kurt was a national champion cheerleader.

The car stopped and Robert opened the door. They got out with a soft thanks. Blaine pulled Kurt towards the door, explain that Robert would bring the bag in and that brunch was waiting.

After being let in by the (honest to God) butler, they made their way through the manor. Kurt's eyes darted around, taking in the British splendour and tried not to panic.

They finally entered a room with a table with food already set out. Blaine grinned as he pulled Kurt with him, "Sorry we are late but the traffic was horrendous."

"It's okay Poppy," the elegant lady replied. Kurt noted that she must be Katherine Anderson. She smiled at him with a familiar smile. Kurt started at that. He always though Blaine's smile came from his mum but it seemed not the case. "Introduce this lovely boy, won't you?"

Blaine beamed at that. He found it rather ironic that his father's parents accepted him readily when he came out yet it was his father who had issues with him being gay. Meanwhile, he mother accepted him with a smile yet it was her parents that had issues and refused to speak to him since. As far as Blaine knew, his mother still hasn't spoken to her parents.

"This is my gorgeous boyfriend, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, these are my grandparents, Katherine and Henry Anderson." Blaine said with a flourish. Kurt quirked an eyebrow in silent question, which Blaine answered, "Mum is in a video meeting and I believe dad had to meet with a client. They will be joining us soon, I think." Kurt nodded.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Kurt said with a smile.

Katherine gave him a hard look before smiling, "It's about time my lovely grandson here brought you over for a visit. My word, those pictures do not do you justice, Darling. Poppy, be a dear and pull out a seat for Kurt."

Kurt grinned as Blaine literally pulled out a chair so he could sit, all with a cheesy grin.

"You have a lovely manor," Kurt intoned as he sat down.

"Thank you, Darling," Katherine replied with a smile before shooting a look at her grandson, "I hope that means you will bring him for a proper visit, Poppy."

Blaine looked chastened, "If we are not too busy, I mentioned to Kurt that maybe we could visit over Spring Break. He would love the gardens during spring."

Kurt blushed at that.

It was Henry who replied, as he put down the paper, "You just tell us the dates and we'll book the tickets. It's about time you got your act together and got him back. Cooper even phone us about your moping."

Blaine blushed at that while Kurt looked at the table. Blaine had mentioned how his grandparents had been so disappointed in him when he told them that he had cheated on Kurt and that was why they broke up.

"Hush dear," Katherine butted in, "leave Poppy alone. They've sorted their relationship out. Now let them eat their breakfast in peace."

Blaine looked at his grandmother gratefully but smiled at the Kurt as he boyfriend reached for his hand.

Kurt shrugged as he accepted the offered teapot, "We both made mistakes. But we've managed to fix it and our relationship is that much stronger."

Kurt met Henry's gaze straight on, head held high. There was a tense silence as Blaine gripped Kurt's hand all the tighter.

Henry looked at Kurt for a moment before nodding. He glanced at Blaine and gave him a small nod too before turning back to his paper.

Blaine gave a small sigh of relief. The tension dissipated as Katherine steered the conversation onto safer grounds, asking Kurt about himself.

Breakfast went by smoothly after that, only to be disrupted by the arrival of Blaine's parents. While Elsa hugged Kurt, and gushed over him in general, John had greeted him stiffly and asked after his family. Kurt counted that as an improvement. John Anderson had ignored him straight out before.

"Kurt, Darling," Katherine asked as the staff cleared the table, "what are your plans for today?"

Kurt looked to Blaine as he replied, "Just some sightseeing. I've been here a week but I've been working for most of it. I really want to see Buckingham Palace and maybe the London Eye. Blaine said he would be showing me around."

Blaine nodded, "I booked our tickets already and we have day passes for the hop-on-hop-off bus. We don't really have time to see something at West End though." Blaine looked apologetic at that. Kurt smiled at him as he shook his head.

"Well," she continued, "if you are free for tea later, do join us at the Regatta. I may have mentioned to some of my friends that my grandson and his lovely boyfriend are in London. We'll be heading to dinner from there, if you would rather join us just for dinner."

Blaine looked to Kurt who shrugged back. They didn't have any plans and it sounded like a proper English Tea Party. Plus, with all the Marc Jacobs clothing Kurt now owned, he had something to wear.

"We'll be there at five?" Blaine half-asked his grandmother who nodded. "We should leave now if we want to see everything." It was half-twelve already.

London was a different type of magic that left Kurt breathless. He just didn't know if it was the city or the company. Blaine, being the perfectionist he was, had booked them on the one pm tour of Buckingham that included the changing of guards. All the while, they took cheesy tourist photographs from the bus before ending up at the London Eye for their three-thirty ride.

In the small carriage, Blaine hooked his arms around Kurt to block him from the pushing of the other excited tourists, and so he could watch Kurt's face as he took in the London view.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured as he took in the vastness that was London, a city built over the centuries that saw rise to Kings and Queens.

"It was my pleasure," Blaine replied, with a chaste kiss placed on Kurt's cheek, "but next we are here we are doing this tourist thing properly. And I'm taking you to West End. Maybe we could come back next summer rather than just a week in Spring Break. We could spend more time here in London."

Kurt smiled at that, warmed at the thought that they were planning were they would be in a year's time. Instead he said dryly, "That would be lovely but you're telling your grandmother that she has to wait a year to see us again."

Blaine groaned at that. "I am sorry about her. She's just heard a lot about you and, well, when she takes a shine to someone she doesn't let go. She is used to getting her way."

Kurt snorted at that but turned to face Blaine, ignoring London in favour of his boyfriend. "Well, at least I'll be the Darling to her Poppy."

Blaine blushed at that but Kurt grinned as he leaned in close. "It's cute."

Blaine said nothing in reply as he just took in the closeness. It was so familiar yet startling new. He had almost lost this forever.

"We need a photo," Blaine said suddenly as he pulled out his phone. He shifted them so they both stood against the glass walls and held the camera up.

"Okay?" Kurt questioned for a moment before he was pulled into a kiss. He melted into the familiar warmth and motion of kissing Blaine. It still sent tingles through his body to his toes. He was vaguely aware of the clicking sound of a camera, before Blaine pulled him closer.

Blaine was the first to pull back, murmuring against Kurt's lips, "Bucket List number 82, kiss on the London Eye."

Kurt blinked at his boyfriend before grabbing his collar and pulling him for another kiss.

The Eye took half an hour to do a full rotation, which left them with some time to shop along the river in the small flea market and tourist shops.

Kurt grinned as he dragged Blaine along, refusing to let go of his hand. He gleefully bought a shirt that stated, 'My brother went to London and all I got was this t-shirt' for Finn. He bought an assortment of mugs, magnets, shirts for gifts, and a cap for his dad.

Blaine had found a store that sold records and ended up buying close to two dozen before Kurt dragged him away. Only for Kurt to stumble into a store that sold scarves. Then it was Blaine's turn to drag his boyfriend away.

They made their way towards the bridge and Big Ben.

"Robert is going to pick us up there at quarter past four," Blaine explained as he carried the half of the shopping bags. "We'll head back to the house to change and freshen up before joining my family for tea."

They had time to stroll and just take in London. Kurt loved it. He could imagine what it would be like to spend his summers here with Blaine.

Kurt laughed as Blaine convinced one of the buskers to lend him their guitar. The girl looked amused when Blaine had bounded up to her after the song and offered her some cash to he could 'borrow her guitar to serenade his boyfriend please'.

The crowd who had stopped to listen to her watched amused as Blaine dropped the bags by her open guitar case and started strumming the strings

Kurt blushed as Blaine grinned and sang.

_It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart._

Blaine stared straight at Kurt, looking him in the eye. Like he saw no one else in that moment.

_Without saying a word, you can light up the dark._

_Try as I may, I can never explain,_

_Why I hear when you don't say a thing._

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me._

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me._

_The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall._

_You say it best when you say nothing at all._

Kurt flushed at the attention from Blaine but was unable to move his eyes away. He was aware of the crowd around them; Blaine's voice drawing them in like bees to honey. Kurt was also aware they their gazes turned you him as Blaine kept singing to him.

_All day long I can hear people talking aloud. _

_But when you hold me near, you drown out the crowd._

_Try as they may, they can never define:_

_What's been said between your heart and mine. _

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me._

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me._

_The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall._

_You say it best when you say nothing at all._

The smile was stuck on Kurt's face as Blaine played a short bridge. He wished he had filmed this. Something to keep to remember the perfect day in London when his crazy boyfriend serenaded him on the fly.

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me._

_There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me._

_The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall._

_You say it best when you say nothing at all._

Blaine ended the song with a strum. The crowd of people clapped appreciatively but his eyes were on Kurt. He thanked the girl and gave back her guitar and picked up their shopping.

"How long have you had that in your back pocket," Kurt teased, but the glimmer in his eye gave it away. The flush, breathlessness told Blaine just how much Kurt loved the song.

"Spur of the moment," Blaine insisted but shut up when Kurt kissed him.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured against soft lips. Even if Blaine serenaded him a hundred times, it will always be something special. "I love you something crazy."

"It's true," Blaine replied, but the love struck grin was stuck on his lips.

Kurt laughed at that, as Blaine pouted at the lack of kissing. But Kurt had this glint in his eye as he thought of something. Kurt pressed the bags in his hands to Blaine as he stepped out of the embrace.

"No, come back," Blaine half whined. Kurt grinned mischievously.

"Honey, you're not the only one who can serenade in this relationship," Kurt threw over his shoulder as he made his way towards the girl with the guitar. The crowd who had watched Blaine had dropped coins in her open guitar case.

"Hi," Kurt greeted her, "my crazy boyfriend serenaded me. He's actually done quite a lot so I was wondering if you would mind helping me serenade him."

The girl stared at him before chuckling. "Just when I thought he was pretty much bonkers it turns out he is dating someone just as bonkers."

Kurt shrugged at that, "We both study music. It's kind of a major part of our relationship."

"Lorna," she introduced herself, "What do you have in mind?"

Kurt grinned, "I'm Kurt and he's Blaine. So, considering where we are, do you know…?"

Blaine watched as Kurt charmed a girl, half amused but curious as to what Kurt was going to do. He didn't kid himself that Kurt was the same boy from high school. There was this sense of self-assurance and confidence that was sexy as hell.

When the girl started strumming, Blaine knew that the old Lima Kurt would never randomly serenade him in London. But his boyfriend would and Blaine couldn't wait to fall deeper in love with the changes in Kurt.

In a clear voice, over the music, Kurt grinned as he said, "Like I said Honey, You're not the only one who can serenade in our relationship. I thought this song was appropriate considering where we are." He waved his hand as he gestured around him.

Kurt grinned as he sang, in a clear voice that was so different yet still the same from high school. NYADA had really brought out the best in Kurt's vocals. Blaine stared as his boyfriend say playfully while smiling at him.

_Our love runs deep like a Chevy. _

_If you fall, I will fall with you baby._

_Cos that's the way we like to do it._

_That's the why we like. _

Kurt grinned, gesturing to Blaine with an exasperated smile.

_You run around; open doors like a gentlemen._

_Tell me 'Boy every day you're my everything.' _

_Cos that's the way we like to do it._

_That's the why we like. _

_Just a little East Coast, a bit of sunshine._

_Hair blowing in the wind, losing track of time._

_Just you and I._

_Just you and I._

Kurt raised his head, as his voice skipped upwards towards his upper register with ease and never losing his startling clarity. Blaine found himself reminded of the first time he heard sing. The sheer beauty of his voice was breath taking. But there was a strength in his voice now that hadn't been there before. Blaine grinned. His boyfriend was _belting_ lyrics.

_No matter how far we go, I want the whole world to know._

_I want you bad._

_And I won't have it any other way._

_No matter what the people say._

_I know that we'll never break_

_Cos our love was made in the USA._

_Made in the USA._

_You always read my mind like a letter._

_When I'm cold you're there like a sweater._

_Cos that's the way we like to do it._

_That's the why we like. _

_I'll never ever let the world get the best of you._

_Every night were apart I'm still next to you._

_Cos that's the way we like to do it._

_That's the why we like. _

_Touch down on the East Coast, dinner on the sky rise._

_Winter is the best time, for walking under city lights._

_You and I._

_You and I._

_No matter what the people say._

_I know that we'll never break_

_Cos our love was made in the USA._

_Made in the USA._

_Made in the USA._

Kurt ended with a grin. He turned and thanked Lorna who was staring at him wide eyed.

"I had no idea a guy could sing like that," she blurted out. Kurt merely laughed and dropped a rather generous tip into her case.

"I have a rather large vocal range," he said nonchalantly but flushed at the praise. He loved hearing people compliment any performance. He made sure to drop a few notes into her open guitar case with a smile.

Kurt made his way towards Blaine, smiling at the applause. Blaine who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"So how long have you had that in your back pocket?" Blaine teased, half serious.

Kurt grinned, "It was that or Aftermath for the Year End Recital. I sang Aftermath for the concert but I thought it was appropriate considering that we are in London."

"And our love was made in the USA?" Blaine added, pulling his hands away from Kurt, refusing to give him the bags. "You were amazing."

Kurt preened at that but smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Like I said, I got lucky. My boyfriend is an ex-cheerleader, sings like an angel and is a model. I win big time."

Kurt snorted delicately at that as he rolled his eyes.

Blaine continued as they started walking, ignoring the stares they got. "You're vocals have improved a lot. I didn't know you could belt it like that."

Kurt shrugged, eying the bags and trying to figure out how to get his boyfriend to hand some over. "My vocal teacher Hardison drilled me how on technique. He said that there was no reason why I shouldn't be able to 'belt' any note on my range. It took months. The muscles in my abdomen that I didn't know about hurt all the damn time in the beginning."

Blaine merely bumped his shoulder into Kurt's and smiled.

Despite their small detour of sorts, they were still a few minutes early at their 'pick up point'. It was Kurt who actually spotted it first. Blaine had been juggling the bags and his phone, trying to message Robert that they were waiting.

Kurt groaned and blushed bright red. Blaine looked up and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Kurt hid his face in his hand and pointed behind Blaine.

The newspaper stand had a rather large advertisement for Vogue and Fashion Week. And it featured a very sexy picture of one Kurt Hummel, lying on a chaise looking delightfully ruffled and poised. It was one of the more 'smart casual' outfits: slim fit low rise washed out jeans and just a waist coast. There was skin everywhere. The matching suit jacket was draped on the other end of the chaise.

"Are those everywhere?" Kurt asked, slightly horrified. It was so awkward to see pictures of yourself up.

Blaine stared at the picture, his mind not helping by pointing out that particular photograph was not in Vogue.

There were pictures, sexy pictures, of his boyfriend up. Said boyfriend was blushing and refusing to look at the picture. Blaine smiled slightly at the familiar posture of Kurt Hummel with his armour on because something was uncomfortable.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand in the mess of bags, and pulled him. "Come on."

"What the hell? Blaine!" Kurt stuttered as Blaine pulled him towards the stand, and the poster in particular.

Blaine pushed Kurt towards the poster as he brought up the camera app on his phone. Kurt stumbled and turned to glare at his boyfriend, still blushing as he side-eyed the picture.

"Take a picture," Blaine called as he zoomed in. "It's your first modelling job and you look amazing!"

"You're being ridiculous Blaine," Kurt pointed out, refusing to pose next to a poster of himself.

"You're in London standing next to a poster of yourself advertising the London Fashion Week. You will want to remember this. I want to remember this."

Kurt looked as Blaine and sighed. A part of him did want a photograph of this.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine verbally prodded with a grin, "you know you want to."

Kurt gave in with a small smile. He stood opposite to his face on the picture, leaning his body at an angle so Blaine had more of side-frontal view rather than full frontal. Kurt dropped his shoulders and tilted his head slightly to one side whilst schooling his expression to match the poster.

Blaine laughed as he snapped away at his boyfriend striking a pose. Once he got several photographs, Blaine bounded towards Kurt.

Kurt took hold of the offered camera and stepped back. Blaine dropped the bags at his feet, once again, and grinned at Kurt. He promptly turned around and tried to hug the poster.

Kurt burst out laughing at the sight. "Blaine!"

"Take the picture!" Blaine called back, his face practically pressed up against the image of Kurt.

Still laughing at his absurd boyfriend, Kurt took the picture. "Okay, you've got your picture. Now please stop that!"

Blaine laughed and then puckered up, as if he was going to kiss Kurt: the photograph, not the person. Kurt snapped a picture.

"Don't you dare, Blaine!" he spluttered out amongst the giggles.

Blaine pouted as he turned away and picked up the bags. Instead he quickly made his way to Kurt's side and stole a kiss. "Yup, so much better than a picture. Even if you look ridiculously hot in it and I will glaring at every guy staring at it."

"You're ridiculous."

"Nope. Just in love with my gorgeous boyfriend," Blaine shot back. "Come on, I see Robert."

Robert quickly took the bags form Blaine after opening the back seat door. The two boys entered the car quickly and they were off.

"So," Kurt started as the car gently pulled off, "why have you been avoiding talking about tea?"

Blaine grimaced, "You noticed, huh?"

Kurt sent him a flat look at that. Sometimes it was so easy to forget how well they knew each other.

"Okay," Blaine started as he tapped his fingers on his thigh. It was his nervous tick. Kurt sighed as he reached across and tangled their fingers together. "Um, despite what my grandmother says, this is actually kind of a big deal. It's one of the first summer regattas. I don't usually go. I mean, my grandparents have a standing invitation but we are more the bottom end of the list. It's tea and rowing and what not, but it's all high class gentry and Lords and Ladies. The press will be there and the 'friends' my grandmother mentioned will be gossiping like crazy."

Kurt blinked as he took in the rush of words form his babbling boyfriend. "So, we are actually going to a 'high class' event and you're nervous about going together?"

"Yes? No?" Blaine shook his head, a helpless look on his face, "I'm nervous that someone will say something that will be insulting and there will be nothing I can do. Not really."

Kurt swallowed at that but his eyes softened. "Honey, we have a far bigger problem than the people. I have no idea how to dress for this and we have less than forty minutes."

Blaine chuckled brokenly but leaned into Kurt's side.

"Hey," Kurt murmured into soft, brown curls, "if you rather we stay in and maybe have tea in the gardens? I don't mind. Everything is being quite crazy lately, so I'm just going with it. But if you aren't comfortable we can stay in."

Blaine shook his head, "No way. This is a proper tea party in England. There is no way I'm not taking you."

"Blaine…"

Blaine pulled back so he could look Kurt in the eye, "I love you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Kurt merely leaned in and placed a soft kiss on plump lips. He withdrew slight, and murmured against Blaine's lips, "And because I love you I can't ask you to be uncomfortable."

Blaine pulled Kurt in for a harsh kiss, initiating a make out session in the back seat.

The car pulled into a stop just after five pm and the two American boys stared at each other. From the inside of the tinted windows they could see the few reporters hovering around, armed with cameras.

After a rather heated make out session that left both boys blushing when Robert cleared his throat to announce they had arrived at the Manor. After a mad rush to get ready as Blaine tried to calm down Kurt whilst getting ready.

The attire was formal. So blazers were a must but a suit would be overkill. Blaine had opted for a stunning grey and white plaid blazer that hugged Blaine's built. His shoulders looked broader and his wait tiny. Paired with a plain black dress pants, white short under a cashmere burgundy vest. He chose a simply grey tie to match his blazer.

Kurt rummaged his bags until he found the pair of cream dress pants from Marc Jacobs' last line. He paired it with a stunning toffee brown embroidered shirt from his new season and the new blazer that Santana insisted he pack. He found a stunning burgundy tie and pocket handkerchief to add some colour to his outfit. He was wearing all Marc Jacobs, save for his shoes and tie, but Kurt was happy that he didn't look like he copied one of the pictures from the adverts.

After a quick touch up to his hair, and some bb cream that he swore to death he did not use, Kurt was ready. Blaine had gelled down his hair, kissing the pout on Kurt's lips as an apology. Kurt grinned into the kiss because his boyfriend looked every part the proper British boy in a blazer that he couldn't quite keep his hands off.

"Grandfather is waiting at the attendance register," Blaine murmured as Robert got off the car to open the door for them. "We are on the list but it will be rather difficult to find everyone in the crowd."

"How are we on the list if we only agreed to come at lunch?" Kurt asked, frowning in slight confusion.

"Love, my grandmother probably made arrangements the day I told her you were coming," Blaine replied with a shrug, "it would be easier to excuse us last minute than to add us."

"She planned this! And you knew!" Kurt accused, eyes narrow.

"She did tell her friends so I guessed," Blaine placated. "Time to smile for the camera."

Kurt smirked at that, "Oh, that I can do."

Blaine rolled his eyes but got out the car first when the door opened. Their arrival had caught the attention of the press but they weren't important enough to be mobbed. The most he got was curious looks as no one recognised him.

Kurt took a deep breath as Blaine offered a hand to help him out of the car. Breathing out, Kurt grasped his boyfriend's hand and stepped out. He took a moment to straighten his clothing and thank Robert.

It was a female reporter who broke away from the pack, leaving her colleagues behind. She was the only one who took an interest in them.

"Sam!" she called to a man, clearly her photographer, as she made her way to the pair of boys who had just gotten off a car. They were one of the last guest to arrive and all the 'important' guests had already arrived. The Lord running for Prime Minister as well as the latest scandal revolving around Lady Headhurst, and other distinguished dignitaries.

But Darla Garrison knew that face. How could she not? It had been plastered across the fashion section of every paper in London, on the cover of various magazines and not to mention the advertising campaign that was _everywhere_.

So, what was _Kurt Hummel _doing at the Henley Regatta?

The chauffeur closed the door behind them and the pair started to make their way towards the register. Darla knew there was no way she would get any comment if they got through. So she made to intercept them.

Holding out her recorder, and praying that Sam listened to her for once, she called out, "Kurt Hummel! A comment please!"

Kurt froze for a split second, looking to Blaine with an expression of pure bewilderment. Blaine looked just as lost as he felt but they stopped and turned, slowly, to face the reporter who had called out to them. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was only one, but hid the grimace when he realised that her action was drawing the attention of the others.

Kurt gripped Blaine's hand in a vice grip, even if he face showed nothing of his nervousness.

The woman, dressed in a stylish if plain black suit, smiled at him, holding out her recorder, "Kurt Hummel! How does it feel to be the talk of London Fashion Week? And are the rumours about you becoming the new face of Marc Jacobs true?"

Kurt stared at her for a moment before composing himself, trying to figure out what to say without humiliating himself. He didn't really have to answer questions before; he mostly stood there and smiled.

"I don't know about being the 'talk of Fashion Week' but this week has been an experience I couldn't have imagined before. And I loved every second of it. Marc Jacobs is one of my favourite designers and I'm honoured to wear his clothing. As for being the face of his brand, I would be beyond ecstatic but I have not been informed of any further arrangements with Marc as I am currently on vacation," Kurt tried to say smoothly, feeling far more nervous than he ever did while walking down the runway.

She nodded, before gesturing at her photographer, "May we have a picture? We are from the London Times. If your friend doesn't mind?" Darla knew what was coming. It would be the scoop of the fashion pages.

Kurt looked at Blaine for a moment as he cut in before turning to the reporter, "Boyfriend. This is my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson. We are joining his grandparents this afternoon at the Regatta."

Darla tried to suppress the smirk as she made a mental note to research who 'Blaine Anderson' was, and how he got an invitation to one of the most sought after Regattas. He obviously was not part of the peerage but important enough that his family would invite his boyfriend.

Sam stepped forward to take the photograph, and the two stood close whilst facing the camera. Despite his icy countenance, there was a smile on Kurt Hummel's face and a shine in his eyes. Darla factored that on him being with his boyfriend, whom he took a vacation whilst in London to see.

"Are you British, Mr Anderson?" Darla asked before the two could move to stepped away.

Blaine looked slightly startled at the attention but pulled on the showman's mask and smiled, "No. I'm half American and half British. I'm visiting my family for the summer holidays. When Kurt told me about London, I insisted he spend some time with me and my family before returning to New York."

"So you met in New York then?" she pressed.

Kurt laughed at that and said in a dry voice, "Ohio actually. We met and started dating in high school."

'Score!' Darla grinned, 'Kurt Hummel attends the Henley Regatta with his high school sweetheart.'

"And just to confirm," Darla added as Sam stepped back, his job done. "What are you wearing today, Mr Hummel?"

Kurt laughed at that, holding his head high. He knew this game. Isabelle had warned him about this question and how to answer it. "Marc Jacobs' latest, of course. Although, these pants are from his last line but I simply love them."

Blaine smiled as he caught Kurt's arm. He could see the interest of the other reporters building, "if you would excuse us. My family is waiting."

With a polite nod and words of thanks from Darla, the two stepped towards the register. Darla made her way back to the group of reporters, just in case anyone else arrived.

"You got that, right?" she asked Sam who nodded as he checked his camera.

"Hey, Darla! What was that? I know it's been a slow day but why did you interview them? Interest piece?" Adam Stanley asked with an easy grin.

"Oh, I just got my piece," Darla threw back as she messaged her editor. "That was Kurt Hummel, the main model of Marc Jacobs show on Friday."

"Blaine Anderson, plus Kurt Hummel, under Henry and Katherine Anderson," Blaine told the attendant with a smile.

The man checked the listed before smiling whilst handing over two tags, "Welcome sirs."

Kurt eyes Blaine attach the tag to his blazer pocket and did the same, noting the tag read: 'Kurt Hummel, date of Blaine Anderson, grandson of Sir Henry and Katherine Anderson.'

The moved past the security and attendants, Kurt hissed, "Your grandfather is a Sir?"

Blaine shrugged at that, "He's knighted for his work in the financial sector and public development. It's not something that's past down. Grandmother is the daughter of a Lord, but her older brother inherited the title. She married down in social standing but they loved each other."

Kurt levelled a glare at him, eyes softening at the story but said nothing.

"Honestly I forgot," Blaine added in apology, heading towards his grandfather who was talking to someone.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand that was still in his grasp. It would not be proper to kiss his boyfriend here, no matter how much he wanted to. Kurt had a feeling that public displays of affection were not the norm.

"Grandfather," Blaine greeted with a smile. Kurt echoed his greeting with a, "Mr Anderson."

Henry Anderson smiled as he returned the greeting, "Blaine! Kurt! I was wondering what happened to the two of you! If you would, this is an old friend of mine, Lord Dustin Armbrudge. Dustin, this is my grandson, John's youngest, Blaine and his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt and Blaine greeted the main and shook his hand. He was quite enthusiastic despite the boys caution about being announced as boyfriends in such a crowd.

They made small talk before henry excused them and shepherd them towards the table holding the rest of the Andersons. Kurt was pale as he finally understood why Blaine was nervous about this. Five minutes in and they had met an honest to God, Lord of England.

"Are you okay, Darling?" Katherine asked as they approached and she caught sight of Kurt. "Poppy, pull out a chair. He looks rather pale."

Blaine quickly moved to seat Kurt before sitting next to him, pushing a glass of water into shaking hands.

"We had a run in with a reporter and then met Lord Dustin," Blaine explained in a low voice, acutely aware of the looks they were drawing.

It was Elsa who chuckled, "Don't worry about it Kurt. Just hold your head high. I know it's shocking. I was such a mess when John brought me to my first regatta. I believe we left early because I almost fainted from nerves."

Kurt gave her a bland smiled but drank the water. Blaine's eyes were on him, worried. "I'm okay. Just give me a moment to process. You would think I would be used to this," he added sardonically.

Blaine diverted the attention from Kurt, even as he held his hand, "Mum, where's dad?"

Elsa Anderson rolled her eyes, "He said he had an important meeting he had to attend. I think he just didn't want to sit here. You know how rowing bores him."

Katherine sighed, "I swear I don't know how that boy charmed you, Elsa my dear. A British boy who refused to go to Oxford and hates rowing. I don't know where we went wrong. Fredrick was never such a handful."

Elsa grinned, "Considering we met at Yale, I'm quite happy that John didn't go to Oxford."

Henry chortled at that. "Well, we all know who Cooper got it from."

Kurt grinned at that. He had met Cooper Anderson. Blaine traded looked with him.

Henry turned to the boys, with a worried smile, "Now what is this about a reporter?"

"She recognised Kurt and asked some questions regarding Fashion week," Blaine explained. "Kurt introduced me as his boyfriend and she took some pictures."

"The London Times," Kurt added with a nod, "I'm sorry but it might come out in the paper."

Henry nodded but said, "I'll have my assistant keep an eye on it. It was bound to come out and rather it be printed in a good light that they two of you are dating."

"We mentioned we met in high school," Blaine added.

Henry nodded, "Then they'll print that you two are high school sweethearts."

Kurt and Blaine blushed at that but smiled at each other.

"So, Poppy, Darling. Are you ready to meet some of my friends? I daresay they have been waiting to meet you since I arrived," Katherine asked with a gleam in her eyes.

Kurt looked at Blaine, both their expressions were slightly fearful.

Meeting Katherine's friends was interesting to say the least. They had taken turns to fawn over Blaine while eying up Kurt. It was mentioned, earning the ire from Katherine when one lady mentioned she had hoped that Blaine would date _her_ grandson and was so disappointed to hear he had found a boyfriend in America. That conversation turned humorous when a granddaughter sat down and then fawned over Kurt, recognising him as the new Marc Jacobs model. That had shut the woman up as Kurt was questioned over his career as a model. Blaine was teased in good humour at 'snatching up quite the catch.'

At some point, Blaine had been drawn away by Henry to meet some of his friends and Kurt had left at the hands of the young ladies who had swarmed when gossip spread about who Blaine Anderson was dating.

Dinner had been a jaw dropping experience for Kurt, when they dined at the Gordon Ramsay's restaurant. Henry had merely smiled at Kurt's reaction when they stepped into the Chelsea restaurant and made a comment on how Blaine had mentioned that Kurt was fan of the chef. A chef who had come to their table personally. Kurt had been a daze through desert after meeting one of his idol chefs. He vaguely recalled him spluttering out that he loved his food and had all of his cookbooks.

No one made mention that Kurt would be staying in Blaine's bedroom, rather the family said goodnight and retired. It took some convincing, and reassurance that his bedroom was on the far end of the house, before Kurt would even considering doing anything with Blaine that involved his bed.

Breakfast was a rare family affair. Katherine extracted a promise of a visit over their Spring Break and maybe another on for the next summer. She mused out loud that maybe she and Henry would come to Ohio for Christmas, causing John to choke on his coffee.

Blaine had Kurt in the car and on the way to the hotel on schedule. Although, neither boy could meet Robert's gaze after the previous day's make out session.

Santana was checked out and waiting for Kurt, a scowl on her face. She was not happy, from what Kurt suspected was a hangover of epic proportions. Blaine had to say his goodbyes in front of the hotel, stealing a kiss without care for who was watching.

Kurt found himself bundled into the car before he really wanted to, with Santana telling the driver to step on it. They had an international flight to catch.

"Oh cheer up, Porcelain. You'll see him in a few weeks, and perhaps more when you Skype next time."

Kurt groaned in response, "Just no, Santana."

Santana, for a change, was silent but she stared Kurt down. He shifted slightly in his seat under her gaze. It was like she was trying to x-ray him or something.

"So, did you do the nasty while the family was in the house, or what?" she asked with a smirk.

Kurt flushed red but he said nothing.

"That's not a no," Santana said gleefully. "Oh you did, didn't you? Who used the gag because both of you are so loud?"

Kurt sighed at her crass attitude, "Santana, even if Blaine and I slept together, it's none of your business. Didn't you pick up anyone?"

Santana grinned at that, "Oh honey, I picked up two hot mamas and we had a steamy threesome so thanks for not staying in the hotel. And I was just hoping you didn't traumatise any Andersons. I mean, you and Frodo are going to get married at some point and you want your in–laws to like you."

Kurt smiled at that, "His family is great. His dad is better than he used to be. And his grandmother, Katherine, insisted he visit over Spring Break. Henry, Blaine's grandfather, told Blaine that he would pay for the tickets."

Santana smiled at that, "Good to know."

Kurt went silent for a moment before glancing at his friend, "Turns out Blaine's family is rich. Like his grandfather is really wealthy. They live in a manor. Santana, a manor. Blaine used a town car to show me London. We had dinner at Gordon Ramsay's."

"Like an honest to God manor?" Santana questioned, turning in her seat. At Kurt's nod, she whistled. "Damn boy. You got lucky. Holy shit, so while I was at some hotel you were sleeping in a manor? What the fuck. Is Gel-helmet a Lord or something?"

"Or something," Kurt muttered, "His family isn't in peerage but apparently important enough that they get invitations to things. Well, his grandmother is peerage but the title is passed down through the male line. "

"Things?" Santana wheedled.

Kurt acknowledged her with a grin, "I had high tea with his family at the Henley Regatta, Santana."

"Why are you panicking?" Santana questioned, "I mean, we all Blaine's got dough. He was at Dalton and he drives a BMW and a mustang."

Kurt sighed as he leant back and closed his eyes. "I don't know. Just some people were making comments about I'm such an 'unsuitable match' for Blaine."

"And when the fuck have you ever listened or care about people like that," Santana asked, "He picked you. He fucked up and then he got down on his knees and begged for a second chance. Blaine wants you. You turn him away and I can guarantee he will chase you down, again. He's in love with you. Like I see hearts and want to puke rainbows at his heart eyes." She paused to meet Kurt's gaze.

"Relationships are complicated enough without worrying about other people. I mean, his family likes you, right?"

Kurt nodded.

"Then what's the problem? You're in the clear."

"I don't know," Kurt huffed, "Maybe all the shocks are finally catching up with me. It's been one hell of a week."

"It's going to be interesting to go back. I mean, the adverts are going to be everywhere in New York plus Vogue's cover," Santana grinned in delight, "I wonder if anything will be different?"

"Let's hope not," Kurt snorted, "I can't imagine dealing with the crazy and jetlag at the same time. Plus Wren is going to have my ass for taking those days off. I swear he will die trying to convert my major to opera."

"Again, when the fuck have you actually cared about what other people say."

Kurt smirked at that.

They rest of the ride was quiet until the finally got to the airport. Santana was scary enough to score the window and aisle seats again, and awesome enough to use the frequent flier miles to upgrade them to Business Class.

The checked in their luggage and passed through security rather quickly. Santana's glare may have had something to do with that. Kurt just went along with the necessary evil and reaped the rewards.

"Come on," Santana pulled Kurt away from the gate, "We have time and we can go to the Business class lounge.

Business class lounge was just for business class passengers, having food and drinks. But more importantly, free Wi-Fi. Santana tapped away, checking in with Isabelle and her emails.

Kurt drifted towards the newspapers and searched for the _London Times._ His curiosity got the best of him as he opened it to the society pages. And there he was. A rather large photograph of him and Blaine, took up part of the page. The comment next to the photograph made Kurt smile.

_Blaine Anderson (Grandson of Sir Henry Anderson) with his boyfriend and high school sweetheart, Kurt Hummel, Vogue model. _

The small article quoted him about his presence at the Henley Regatta and stated his outfit was Marc Jacobs. It also mentioned that Blaine was the youngest grandson, and was raised in Ohio.

Kurt smiled. It was actually a rather pleasant if unexpected article. He wondered back to Santana who was speaking on the phone. She made a grabbing gesture to the newspaper in Kurt's hand. The boy sighed and handed it over.

Kurt opted to take a seat, put on his headphones and zone out until they had to board. Santana would tell him what was happening when she had a free moment. Despite all the craziness that had happened over the last week, Santana had proven herself to be one hell of a manager slash PA. And Kurt was grateful she came.

The songs on his iPod shuffled and Kurt pondered on what would be a good gift for the Latina, as a thank you. She had raked in a few outfits from the show, and Vogue. And Kurt had some money to splurge, and she would deserve it. Inwardly, he cursed that he didn't think to buy anything in London.

'A killer pair of heels, maybe?' he pondered over ABBA.

Santana had been finishing up with Isabelle over phone and she was thankful that she read what

Kurt had gone looking for. Grinning, she told Isabelle about how Kurt Hummel was in the Society Pages of the London Times. The elder lady was gleefully laughing on the other side of the Atlantic. After confirming that they would both be at Vogue for an hour after landing.

"We need to debrief the whole project. Everything else had been consolidated, I'm just waiting on Kurt and you. It will be an hour max before you guys can rush off," Isabelle explained. "We've had more interest in this than we expected. Whilst the Marc's line is doing extremely well, there has been a lot of interest in Kurt, and by extension, you."

"Of course," Santana replied. Vogue would be sending a driver. "That's fine with me but Kurt will be cutting it fine. I'm planning to crash after we get back to New York but Kurt needs to head to NYADA. He's got class at ten."

"I'll have food and coffee ready for you. The car can take you back to your place, so you can crash and Kurt can get his things before taking him to class," Isabelle planned, making a note on her desk, "that boy works too hard."

Santana snorted. "I think if he's idle he'll go crazy."

"Keep an eye on him."

"I will shove the sleeping pills down his throat if he refuses to sleep on this flight. I got his back, whether he likes it or not."

Santana finished up the conversation, before ordering some food. Kurt seemed to have dosed off in the overstuffed sofa, slumping into it. She packed the newspaper into her carry on whilst was at it.

~0~0~0~

The pair landed in New York just before six am. Kurt had grumbled when Santana told him of the meeting at Vogue but thanked her when she explained how he now had use of the car to get to NYADA on time. While Kurt would have liked the luxury of time to have a nice, long hot shower, he would make do with a quick hot shower before class. The one very important skill he took away from the whole modelling experience was how to get ready on the fly.

Wasting no time, the two had freshened up in the small airplane toilet before landing, and made a beeline for their luggage and then the gate. Unlike in England, the driver was there waiting, holding a board marked 'Vogue: Kurt Hummel &amp; Santana Lopez'.

They finally got through the ridiculous traffic and arrived at Vogue dot com around half seven. They were shuffled past the main desk, getting calls of congratulations as they made their way to Isabelle's office.

"Kurt! Santana!" Isabelle greeted them with a grin. "May I be the first to congratulate you both on an excellent runway show? It was the most talked about show at London."

The pair greeted her and made a break for the food and coffee on the table. Isabelle looked amused.

"You two don't eat like models," she joked, "but then again, I know how terrible plane food is."

Kurt swallowed as he blushed, "Sorry Isabelle. But I have to eat on the go here. I do need to get to class."

Isabelle waved him off as she perched on the edge of her desk. "It's fine. Eat while you listen. Sit."

Kurt and Santana took their seats in the chairs by the table, each nursing a plate of food.

"So, let's start from the beginning, shall we?" Isabelle started off, her iPad in hand, "The response to the spread was quite good and according to our trackers, only got better after the show. There are currently 7 billboards in New York advertising Marc Jacobs featuring Kurt, ten busses and posters at newspaper stands. We had an unexpected strong reaction to the human interest piece we did on Kurt. Congratulations Kurt, you made 'Google's 20 Most Searched Topic' this week and there has been a spike in interest in you, Santana, after the runway show."

Kurt froze as he glanced at Santana. Even Satan stared a little shocked at the calmness of Isabelle as she them _they were famous._

"Santana, you need to see Carrie about your new jobs. We've had at least 20 requests for you; one being a runway."

Santana choked on her coffee.

"Kurt, you'll need to choose some jobs. I know you don't want this to be a career but it's a once in a life time opportunity. And you have the time now. Carrie is also handling you."

Kurt sat back with a sigh. He knew they he would do some more modelling. It paid far too well to look away. And he loved the attention. It was a different type of spotlight, but still the spotlight.

"The spread as well as photographs are being run by other magazines this coming week. With Miranda's attention, everyone wants to run the spread. As a Vogue Models, you both need to do some interviews. People are loving the whole Cinderella story behind this. And it drums up publicity."

"So what happens now?" Kurt finally asked as he stared at his coffee.

"Santana is a vogue model. So, I suggest you grab every job you can," Isabelle said with a smile. "Kurt, you're still be PA. It just happens you're a part time model as well, who is the talk of the town. You can turn down all the jobs if you want."

Santana looked at Kurt with a worried expression. Porcelain sighed again.

"Frankly, Isabelle, I don't know if I want this. I really didn't understand how big this all was. I mainly took the job because I now have enough money saved away for rent and fees." Kurt confessed, "I went to London on a whim because I would be able to see Blaine over the summer. But this is crazy. A reporter at the Regatta recognised me. I was interrogated about being a model by the daughter of a Lord while at the Regatta. My face was plastered on a wall at the airport."

Isabelle fell silent, "Take a week. See how you feel. Don't say no just yet."

Kurt gave her a helpless look.

"Kurt," Santana said softly, "I know this isn't what you dreamed of. But, you're got something. I will be working my ass off to get where you are now. And it wasn't just luck that you got Seo Joon to look at you. You've got something in this. Even if you use it as just a way to pay the bills."

"Well, I did have fun," Kurt relented.

"So, spend the summer modelling and NYADA. See how you feel at the end."

Isabelle cut in, handing the iPad to Kurt, "Here's some more incentive. This is your fee payment from Vogue. The last payment is for you being the face of Marc Jacobs for this line. It's a one year fees payment in one amount. The legal department sent your information to the accounting department to calculate the tax on your earnings. They will contact you. "

"Holy Shit!" Santana swore as she peaked over his shoulder. "You've earned how much in the space of three months?!"

Kurt looked at it numbly. "That's a lot of money."

Santana snorted at that. "You can prepay rent for the whole year plus NYADA fees for this summer and next year!"

"With a few more high-end jobs this summer, you can have enough money for all your college fees," Isabelle wheedled.

"Why are you so intent on having me model?" Kurt asked as he handed back the device, paler than normal.

"Kurt, you're a vogue model. It's good for us. Plus, you're the hot topic that has even _Runway _wanting you. I got a call from Miranda Presley herself regarding them doing a spread and an interview with you. She got her modelling department to send a job offer. She wants you to do a Runway cover for an up-and-coming Runway designer."

It was almost nine when Isabelle finally let them go, and Santana hustled Kurt into the waiting car. They made their way to Bushwick.

"Go, shower and make yourself human again," Santana ordered, "I'll have a coffee ready for you. You have 20 minutes if you want to make your class."

Hurricane Kurt was ready in 19 minutes, almost kissing Santana when she handed him a travel mug filled with coffee and his already packed school bag.

"Metro card?" She questioned as Kurt made a beeline for the door.

"In my wallet! Thanks Santana! I swear I'm buying you a pair of Jimmy Choo this weekend!"

"I'm holding you to that!"

And he was gone.

Santana sighed as she slumped slightly. She was tired. All she wanted was a shower and her bed. And that girlfriend pillow to snuggle up against.

Vaguely, she wondered where Rachel was.

~0~0~0~

Kurt power walked to the subway station. Thankfully, NYADA was not that far but he walked as fast as possible. He only had one class, and it was a theory class at that. But he really didn't want to miss out on anymore. Then he had to meet Wren for his vocals lesson.

It was a familiar sensation when he entered NYADA. The eyes that stared at his back. Kurt tensed as old instincts flared up. Instead, he held his head high and walked to class, refusing for them to see any fear.

He was early.

Kurt entered with a sigh of relief. He made his way to a seat in the middle of the class. Not in the front (he wasn't that eager) but not in the back to show his disinterest in the subject.

Silence descended on the half-filled room. He could hear the gossip. It didn't surprise him nearly enough. He should have realised this would happen.

"Holy shit! Kurt Hummel is this class?!"

"I read he attended here in Vogue but I didn't think I would actually meet him. He's met Marc Jacobs!"

"He's on the billboard on Broadway!"

"I didn't realise he was _that _Kurt Hummel. Some people have all the luck. I mean, he looked like that and sings like a damn angel."

Kurt bit back a groan. 'Of fucking course they saw him in Vogue.'

Thankfully, the teacher walked and the lesson started. No one sat next to him but he could feel the stares.

By the time, class was over, Kurt was ready to make a beeline for door. Unfortunately, he had to meet with his teacher (Lore? Lure?) and hand in the make-up work. So, Kurt made his way to the front of the room acutely aware of the stares and the fact that no one had left the room yet.

"Sir?" Kurt half asked as he held the folder of work, "I have the work for what I missed."

The man gave Kurt a nod and took the folder, skimming it. "Well, Mr Hummel. Everything seems to be in order, this last assignment is only due on Friday on work we are covering this week. Would you like more time?"

Kurt smiled at that but shook his head, "I studied music privately. I know most of what's covered in this course."

The man looked at Kurt, "You can test out of it if you have a certificate of a recognised institution, like Trinity or Royal Schools."

Kurt brightened at that. It would mean one less course. "I did Trinity for piano and theory."

"Grade?"

"Finished 8."

"Bring your certificates to the next lesson. We'll head over to admin to sort this out," he said with a smile. Johnathan Lyre paused before he asked, "How was London?"

Kurt froze at that, not quite believing that his teacher was asking him about London.

"It was quite the experience," Kurt said slowly before excusing himself, citing that he had a voice lesson.

The corridors were empty compared to during the actual semester, but far busier than Kurt expected it to be. NYADA ran various courses during the summer, and had the practice rooms open for the students, so it made sense.

But the whispers were worse in the corridors, especially the building that housed the practice rooms.

Kurt just kept head high and walked to his lesson, trying not to tense under the stares. He was always the odd one out. He hadn't really made friends after getting into NYADA. The Winter Recital had not done him any favours as everyone talks about how he had been invited to audition and then given a place half way through the year. That was not done. Not even Rachel's jaw-dropping solo could hide the gossip about him.

Carmen had done him no favours by accepting him. It set him apart and a school as competitive as NYADA, which did not make grounds for any friendships. He worked with others when a project called for it, and for some insane reason Cassandra July did not tear him down, but every attempt at making some sort of friendship with anyone in his program was met with total shut down. Sure, he was friendlier with those doing a musical instrument as a major; they didn't view him as a threat.

Getting the solo at the Year End Recital hadn't helped in any regard. Kurt was sure he was more infamous at NYADA than popular. It was lonely at times.

After knocking, Kurt entered the designated practice room. He faltered slightly when he saw Hardison as well as Wren in there but greeted them as he dropped his bag on the free chair.

"Kurt Hummel," Cole Hardison greeted with a smile, "You know when my student asks for time off because his job is taking him to London; I really don't expect to see them on the cover of Vogue of all places."

Kurt flushed at that but kept searching for the folder with the music sheets Wren had given him.

"No, I just was offered a deal I could not refuse." Kurt admitted.

Hardison snorted in amusement at that.

Wren, on the other hand, was not amused. "Did you learn anything on your little holiday?"

Kurt resisted the urge to give him uptight teacher his 'bitch-face'. "I learnt how not to fall on my face in front of everyone in the fashion world, that my boyfriend's family is Knighted and that I should consider doing a semester at the Royal School of Music in London."

"Oh," Wren leant forward, curious, "have you had a change of heart? Your voice is made for classical music after all."

Kurt grinned but shook his head at that, "My boyfriend has family in London. We discussed maybe doing a semester over there. He would love to do a course on music production and classical training for my voice seemed like an idea. But my heart is set on Broadway."

Wren sighed, "Well, let's begin."

"I'll let myself out. Come see me after your lesson, Kurt," Hardison said with a smile as he left.

~0~0~0~

The week had been crazy like Kurt has never experienced before. Not even the crazy that was the New Directions had prepared him for the insanity that had become his life.

The gossip followed him everywhere at NYADA and at work. Wren seemed to be the only one immune to it, pushing Kurt's vocal training with each lesson.

The only place where Kurt felt invisible was in a crowd. He was just another person going somewhere in the bustling city. Although, he chose not to tempt fate and kept far away from the newsstands or areas where the billboards were.

Isabelle gave him the week off, but asked him to come in on Friday to go over some job offers and the next week's schedule. For that, Kurt was ever grateful to his fairy godmother.

Everything sort of fell into place again. Kurt had to talk his dad out of flying out to New York when he called. Burt Hummel proudly boasted how the cover of Vogue was now hanging in the garage. Summer was a busy time, so Kurt got his dad to compromise and plan to visit at the end of the summer. Carole was over joyed and Finn thought it was so cool that his brother was on the cover of a magazine.

The major argument Kurt had with his dad was over money. Kurt had tried to get his dad to use his college savings to pay for Finn's fees. Finn didn't have a large college fund that was almost completely drained during the first year. Most of Kurt's college fund came from his mother's life insurance that had been put into a savings fund after her death.

Considering that Burt had took out a loan to pay for the new house and the hospital bills in junior year, and all savings had gone towards the wedding and Dalton; money would be tight without Finn's fees on top of that. Kurt argued that instead of the extra debt, he could pay his own fees, and they should rather use the money sitting in his savings to subsidise Finn's fees. That way, they could still make the payments for the mortgage and save up for Finn's next year's fees. Not to mention OSU was cheaper than NYADA, so they could also pay for residence with the amount of one year's worth of NYADA fees.

Burt and Carole did not want to take Kurt's money, despite Kurt's instance. It took Kurt giving his father the full figure of just how much he made during the modelling job to cave, with the promise that they would repay back the money after Finn graduated, so at least Kurt would have a savings fund just in case.

After that, he got a tearful call from Finn thanking him. He had hoped to get a scholarship with football that year to ease the financial burden but he hadn't made the first string yet and he couldn't qualify for academic scholarship. Kurt merely told his oaf of a brother that he was doing his 'big brother duty _because I am older than you Finn. _

It was not only the money that got Kurt to rethink taking a modelling job. But rather, in retrospect, how much he enjoyed it. And the email from Miranda Presley that Isabelle had forwarded to him.

He had an opportunity to shine, so why the hell was Kurt Hummel hesitating?

Blaine skyped often from London, only now his grandmother would often demand to talk to Kurt too. Katherine was a laugh, making Kurt wonder how in the world John Anderson was their son. It seemed Blaine took after his paternal grandparents. She often talked about how the two of them should spend a year studying in London. Or how they should visit her soon, perhaps at near the end of the summer? Or should they come down to New York?

Kurt loved talking to her. He didn't have any living grandparents so he mused that this is what it must be like to have a grandmother.

Blaine, on the other hand, joked that he no longer got to talk to Kurt without his grandmother trying to hijack his calls. Blaine, who had half a mind to jump on a plane back to New York, family vacation be damned, voiced his thoughts only to smile sheepishly when Katherine added that it would be a good idea and perhaps she and Henry could come too.

Apparently, it was up for discussion.

The only cloud over the week was Rachel. The brunet had been rather sour upon their return. After class, Kurt had crashed hard in his room, only to be forcefully woken up by Rachel, who had returned from a late audition.

Her volume in questioning had woken up a vengeful Santana.

It had not been pretty. Rachel had been furious, practically shouting that they had lied about their 'small modelling job'.

"Shut it, man hands!" Santana groaned, "I'm jetlagged and tired, so I'm telling you this once. We didn't lie about zilch. What we didn't realise is how big this would be. Now if you don't shut up I will tear your precious vocal chords out of your throat with my bare hands!"

"Santana, calm down," Kurt tried to mediate, "Rachel, we didn't lie about anything. I'm also shocked by all the pictures. But I did agree to the advertisement campaign but I guess I didn't really understand. But we all signed the confidentiality agreement, so you had some idea too."

"Kurt, there is a picture of your on _Broadway_! You didn't mention _that!_"

Kurt sighed as Santana cursed in Spanish. "Rachel, _I didn't know_ the locations of the billboards; just the number. I still don't know. I'm sorry if it seemed like we lied but we didn't. Now if you don't mind, we are both jetlagged like hell and I have class tomorrow morning. So goodnight!"

Rachel huffed but said nothing. She retreated to her room. Kurt turned to Santana, who was glaring at the retreating girl, and said in a quiet voice, "It's like West Side Story all over again."

Santana snorted, "You may have expected her to be happy for us, but I knew she would blow her top first. I just wish I wasn't so damn tired so I could enjoy it more."

"Santana…"

"Chill porcelain, she'll come around. She always does. The difference between now and high school is the time it takes her to change from Miss Star into a friend."

Kurt looked at the Latina and sighed, knowing she was right.

"Goodnight Santana."

"Night Kurt."

~0~0~0~

"This is your file," Isabelle explained as she sat at her desk. Kurt had dropped by after class on Friday for the meeting, "I had Cassie send it up. It's your basic profile and portfolio. We used the pictures from the spread, although if you are going to a model, we will need to set up a photo shoot for your portfolio pictures."

Kurt nodded as Isabelle continued.

"Now, you've had a lot of attention and quite a few job offers. Most just want the attention having you in a spread will draw. Like this Levi Jeans advert. It's been planned for a long time and they just want to add you as a last minute model. But having you in the ad would benefit them more than you."

Kurt nodded but smiled as Isabelle kept going.

"However, you have some once-in-a-lifetime offers here. Dior wants you, and Runway and GQ. There is also an amazing offer from Soviet Inc. to be a main model for their brand that would really send you out there as a model and Hugo Boss wants you for a perfume add. And on Marc recommendation, Giorgio Armani wants you for the Milan Fashion week in August."

Kurt blanched at the list before swallowing and nodding.

"Now we need to know if you plan to keep modelling. If you don't, we'll run an article saying you're concentrating on college and will model part time for us exclusively. That should get most people off your back."

"Isabelle," Kurt cut in, "I've been thinking about it and I think I want to keep modelling."

"Really?!"

Kurt grinned at his excited boss and nodded, "So, which jobs would you recommend considering that this may be a long-term thing?"

Isabelle beamed at that as she sat back in her chair. "Well, to start, you have to do the Armani show at Milan. Soviet will send your image out to the public and it would be stupid to say no to Dior, even if they are only giving you a small appearance. Hugo Boss is a maybe. The offers for the covers will have to be done ASAP. They want you because of the human interest not because you're famous."

Kurt sighed at that, "Just how busy am I going to be?"

"Well, you are starting work tomorrow but you're doing four hours seven days a week. That leaves your week ends free with no classes, right? We can swop your hours around, but you need the 28 hours a week minimum. Most shoots with your part will be done over two days, at most five. So it's workable. Honestly, we need to use this to make you a constantly popular model. That's the best long term plan."

They worked on the schedule for the next hour, sending off emails to jobs Kurt accepted (on Isabelle's recommendation) and his declination of other jobs. They built a tentative schedule, with only Runway sending a reply almost immediately. They wanted him to come in the next day for the shoot and interview so that Kurt could be on the cover for the next issue. Isabelle reckoned that GQ would also reply by the Saturday as they would also want Kurt in time for the next issue. Dior was tentatively scheduled for next month time while Soviet was for two weeks' time. HB hadn't given a date yet. And Vogue wanted him in the next issue; so he had a set monthly job as a model for the next three months.

Saturday, Kurt arrived at Vogue early. Cassie had handed his file over to Ria that morning, who would be his PA who would go to locations with him while she organised his schedule from the office.

Ria rushed him to the Vault and stylists, prattling on that even if he didn't need help getting a look together it was 'company policy'.

Neal took one look at him and waved him away.

Kurt grinned as Ria groaned, already dialling on her phone, ordering for the car to come around now.

"I guess I should just schedule the car early because that is going to be the norm with you, huh?" she jokingly asked as she nodded towards Neal who was attacking a model's hair with a brush and a grim determination. Kurt looked back and winced. The girl had permed her hair, from what Kurt could recall, and it was a frizzy, hot mess.

They exited Vogue as Ria looked through her PDA. "Right! Only one job today and we should be back by one at the latest, depending on the photographer and editor. And let's see…."

Ria paled suddenly as she looked up from her phone to stare at Kurt. "You're doing an interview and the cover for _Runway_? You have to meet _Miranda Presley!_"

Kurt nodded, feeling slight apprehensive at what he was just about to do. "Good thing we're early," he tried to joke.

Kurt was in the town car to Vogue at twelve. And still in awe at what he had just done.

Arriving at Runway Offices, Kurt was ushered through security and up to the third highest floor. He was left waiting in a conference room with a visibly nervous Ria. Kurt had sat back and put on his game face. He had notice the sudden hustle outside the room as people moved out the way.

And the she appeared. Kurt got his feet instantly, vaguely away of Ria also standing.

Miranda Presley walked down the corridor and into the room, behind her was a small contingent of assistants, stylists, a photographer and a designer.

Miranda Presley herself was overseeing the interview and the photo shoot. She had chosen the clothing for the cover picture.

The rest were a blurred.

Kurt could vaguely recall answering the questions as Miranda Presley sat in on the interview, who added her owns questions.

'Do you use a stylist? No? Good.'

'Why style do you prefer?'

'When did you become interested in Fashion?'

'Why are you not studying fashion?'

And then she practically directed the photo shoot. She wanted him casual for the cover, something Runway rarely did. She wanted his casual yet well-dressed look.

And then he was back at Vogue, being hugged by Isabelle who had gotten another email from Miranda Presley herself, complimenting Kurt.

~0~0~0~

Life moved on. Kurt was running a full schedule, like he did during the term, but instead of classes, he was picking up modelling jobs or extra time at Vogue dot com.

Summer classes were going well, especially since he could test out of two of his current theory classes and another two for the upcoming year. It freed up some unexpected time which was actually a relief.

Actually being in class was stranger than before. Kurt had grown used to the stares and the gossip that surrounded him. He had tried to stay under the radar, which had been easy enough considering that no one in the performance major dared to approach him. Kurt found himself becoming friends with the music majors, and Adam.

Between dumping Adam and the Midnight Madness challenge, Kurt knew he had more of an infamous reputation at NYADA. Which only increased when he was offered a solo at the Year End Recital.

But the attention he now received was completely different. For the first time, people rushed to sit next to him. People were always asking him questions, or trying to be his _friend._ It was a weird version of being popular. Everyone wanted to which celebrities he knew or met and how could they get into parties.

It left Kurt bewildered. He had never been popular, not even while he was in the New Directions or the Warblers. He ignored the hanger-ons and rushed off queries. He kept to himself mostly. Or he tried. Even Hardison found it amazing that Kurt was on a billboard in Broadway. The man had even signed the permission slip for Kurt to audition for roles.

So Kurt did. He looked through the lists of upcoming auditions; trying to find something that he would actually stand a chance at actually getting. Not a classic male role. He took Hardison's advice to heart though:

"_Kurt, you're good. But so are a lot of other people. You are going to hear a thousand no's for every yes. Try out for roles, but also for the chorus. Any experience is good experience in this business."_

Which is why Kurt was flipping through the paper with a pen in one hand. Santana who had been working almost nonstop for the past couple of weeks since London, just walked in to the kitchen, freshly showered.

"Sup Porcelain?" she asked with a grin.

"Satan," he greeted back. While Santana worked her ass off to build her reputation as a model. Kurt had done the Runway and GQ covers, while signing the Soviet and Hugo Boss contracts and being one of the featured models for the next issue of Vogue. Despite it seeming like a hectic workload, everything was fairly spaced out.

"Auditions?" she questioned as she eyed the paper.

Kurt nodded absentmindedly, "Hardison gave me permission. In fact, he thinks it would be good experience. And I have time now. If I don't get anything then I'll pick up more hours at the office."

Santana snorted at that as she made herself a cup of tea. "Why are you working so hard? It's not like you need the cash."

Kurt sighed. He hadn't told anyone the discussion between him and his dad. He sat back in the chair. "Actually I do. Finn's college fund is almost finished. I offered dad and Carole my fund to pay for his because they can't pay off the new mortgage and Finn's fees. I paid for the summer classes and I have enough for next year's fees. Working for Isabelle pays my rent. If I save the rest of the money from modelling, I need to save money for two more years plus expenses. Even with the cash from the new contracts, I need the extra cash. Just in case."

Santana looked at him with a weird look in her eyes. She was silent for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Only you, Kurt."

Kurt shrugged. "It means no shopping but I'm getting a lot of free clothes so it's not too bad. Dad says he'll only use the money for this year. That they will save up for next year. But if they can't, at least I will have some money."

Santana nodded before changing the subject. "So, what are you auditioning for?"

Kurt sighed at that. "I don't know. I don't fit the typical male lead. The biggest auditions right now seem to be for female roles. You know Rachel has been preparing for the Funny Girl call back for weeks now."

Santana snorted into her tea but said nothing at the glare Kurt sent her. Rachel was in the shower, from what they could hear, and would be there for a while. While she had been auditioning most of the summer, she had only gotten offered a few chorus parts, which she turned down. She was working as a waitress to pay the rent but often said she would only accept a proper role. Fanny Brice was her _dream. And the final call backs were in a week!_

Rachel Berry was not a chorus member.

"Are there_ any _prospects?"

Kurt looked at her with suffering look, "There's a Pinocchio audition?"

Santana burst out laughing.

~0~0~0~

Walking through New York was something Kurt was sure he would never get used to; not when he grew up in Lima. The only thing missing was Blaine. His boyfriend was still bemoaning being 'stuck' in Europe. His parents has refused to let him 'cut their family vacation short' even at the request of his grandparents.

However, walking through New York now was a little more different. It was something one just couldn't get used to.

Seeing your face everywhere. Kurt ducked his head as he walked past a newsstand that had him on the cover of Vogue, GQ and Runway. Thankfully, most people don't recognise him unless he is standing near an advert of some sort.

He had gone to the grocery store on the way back from NYADA and the girl behind the till recognised him. She started begging for his autograph, drawing the attention of everyone standing in the line behind him. It grew a little awkward when she left the till to grab the magazines and then asked him to sign them.

Shaking his head, Kurt tried to focus on the mission at hand: get to the audition venue. Thankfully, it was a small auditorium not on Broadway; rather off-off-Broadway.

Which meant, Kurt could dodge the infamous billboard.

He had been to four audition already. At least he got to sing at two of them. The other one, the director took one look at him and said, "Thanks for coming but you're not what we want right now."

On the third audition, they turned him away when he handed over his resume. He didn't have enough 'experience' to audition.

So far, he had no luck, which might have been a good thing. Hugo Boss came back after the shoot and offered him a one year contract to model five of their fragrances. So his relatively free schedule just filled up, especially when Cassie explained to the Hugo Boss rep that Kurt would be going back to school full time come September. Hugo Boss needed to shoot three of the five adverts before September. And it was mid-July already.

Kurt walked into the old theatre and joined the line in front of the desk. A woman was walking down the line, handing out the audition forms.

"Thank you for coming. Fill out the form, and attach your profile. We are only auditioning for Lost Boys, Mr and Mrs Darlings, mermaids, red Indians and Hook's pirates. We apologise but the main roles have been cast except for Wendy. Auditions last till the end of July. We expect to start rehearsals mid-August."

A few people groaned at that. It meant the producers had already cast the major roles to specific actors.

Some walked out.

Kurt sighed but stayed in line. He took the form with a smile and received a flicker of a glance from the lady. He ignored the look, moving to a free chair to fill in the basic information form. He paused at the section for the part he wished to audition for, before writing 'Lost Boy'.

From his sling bag, Kurt pulled out his profile. It had his NYADA resume as well as he experience and written recommendations from a few of his teachers. And the permission slip. There was a small note on his resume, under skills, that he modelled and he had basic gymnastic skills (from his time on the Cheerios).

He walked back to the desk and handed the paper work to the blond man. He briefly looked through the resume, made a note on his clipboard and then handed Kurt a number.

'45? How many people are auditioning for a chorus part?' Kurt wondered, incredulously. He was ushered into the next area. He joined yet another line. Sort of. Everyone was warming up in some way.

Kurt sighed as he took a seat. He had already warmed up his voice before leaving the apartment, and an irate Santana. Humming kept his vocal chords stretched and ready. And his morning yoga session stretched out his body sufficiently.

The nerves took over as he sat quietly. His leg bounced, tapping incessantly against the hard wood floor. It seemed that they were taking people through already but even more people were still entering. That should be a given. There was still two more hours for walk-in auditions to sign up today. Walk-in auditions would last a week.

For the first Kurt really understood how hard it would be to make it on Broadway; that no matter how much talent you had, you needed every advantage you could get. Rachel stumbled onto a chance in a million with Funny Girl. No wonder she was going crazy about getting the role.

Kurt wished he could talk to Blaine but his boyfriend was still in Europe for another week.

It almost an hour before his number was called in the batch of auditions. Kurt followed the three other males and one female into the auditorium, his number firmly in his hand.

"Can audition 41 set up onto the stage?" came a woman's voice. A table was set up half way up the auditorium which seated, whom Kurt guessed, was the Director, writer and producers.

The woman confidently walked up onto centre stage. Kurt watched the audition process with careful eyes. Even though most of auditions happened in the same sort of way, different directors ran thing differently.

This director had you wait on stage while they went through the file. Then you had to sing one song. She was sent away with a polite rejection.

So were the next two performers.

Number 44 got to sing and read from the script for a pirate.

Then Kurt was called up.

Standing on an empty stage was intimidating, if one was not used to it. Kurt stood still, resisting the urge to fidget but relaxed enough to look like he was not about to kneel over from nerves.

For his song choice, Kurt went with Aftermath, considering how well it showed off his range and technique. He then had to sight read a song form the play and read from the script.

And it was over before Kurt could really process it.

The panel was talking amongst themselves.

'That's a good sign,' Kurt mused, 'they haven't send me away yet.'

"You're a NYADA student?" the woman asked, her eyes firmly on what Kurt assumed what it resume. "Is your gymnastic experience from the stunt class? NYADA does not offer specialised gymnastics."

"No," Kurt replied, trying to keep his voice level as it echoed through the room, "I was on my high school cheerleading team. I learnt basic gymnastics from my coach."

It was one of the men who spoke next, "Can you demonstrate a basic layout?"

Kurt looked startled as he asked, "Now?"

The man nodded. Kurt shrugged at that and mentally thanked Sue Sylvester for the insane training regime that still haunted him.

Moving to the far side of the stage, Kurt did a short run up, thankful he was wearing Doc Martins that had a grip, and moved into a cartwheel, flip, twist and a round off to end.

Kurt smirked as he stuck the landing. It might have been a while since he had done that but it did feel good to know he could still. Calmly, he made his way back to centre stage. He knew why they had asked him to do that. Rumour was that this Peter Pan production would have acrobatics and 'flying'. Best case scenario, Kurt could get a Lost Boy part where he actually spoke.

Every advantage.

He was thanked and informed that he would receive a call the next week if he was given a part.

Kurt walked away being cautiously optimistic about getting a part in the production. Peter Pan was his best bet, considering how well it would fall into his schedule. And with that, he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and made his way to the Vogue dot com offices.

~0~0~0~

The summer was moving faster than expected. Kurt found himself on the couch on a rare free day on the last day in July. He had been so busy recently, it seemed odd. Stranger still, was Santana and Rachel's free schedule at the same time.

The three had curled up on the couch, readily to spend the afternoon watching Mamma Mia in sweatpants. They had barely made it past the opening scene when Rachel just had to talk.

It was the first time in almost a week she had free time with her flatmates. The last time the three of them 'hung out' together was to celebrate her getting the part of Fanny in Funny Girl. A part of her resented how fast Kurt and Santana became friends and the amount of time they spent together since Santana joined Vogue. They were always busy together, or talking about something about modelling. But, Rachel knew she would be back to spending time with Kurt when NYADA's term started again.

"Well," she started as the song just finished. They had watched this movie enough to know she had some time before the next song. "Rehearsals are going fantastic. The director and producer are both stunned that this is my first Broadway part. The only thing, and isn't this just crazy, they want me to have an understudy? I mean, there isn't anyone else who can play Fanny as well as me, so I told them there really is no need. I will be in every show, guaranteed."

Kurt and Santana traded looks; Santana silenced quickly by Kurt. She sat back and let him take care of this.

"Rachel," Kurt said in a fond voice. This was the same version of the crazy 'I will storm out if I don't get my way' Rachel from high school. "It's nothing personal. It's just standard Broadway practice to have an understudy just in case something happens. And to give the main actors the option of a day off."

"I know that, Kurt," she replied snappishly, "but there is no_ need_ for that with _me_."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that as he returned his gaze to the television. "As much as you wish to believe that, investors will want more than just your word."

Rachel huffed. "Well, how would you feel if they booked someone else to do your modelling part as a back-up?"

Santana snorted at that. "All lead models can be replaced by a secondary lead because on the day, the designer or photographer can take one look at you and hate you."

"But it's different on Broadway," Rachel sat up, insistent. She ignored the movie as she forced Kurt and Santana's attention to her. "You two would have to know what it is like to have a lead role on Broadway to truly understand but it's not something you let go off. To be replaced is a ridiculous insult to my talent. At least, the producer understands how I feel but the director insisted in holding auditions for my understudy. Whoever the little upstart is, I will make it very clear to her that she will not be stepping foot onto my stage."

Santana shook her head but sat back into the couch as she replied dryly, "Of course you will, man hands. But I want to know, since Porcelain has graced us with his presence, is how he now has free time?"

Kurt smirked at that, "Last week of classes this week. So it's purely revision for the course end tests. Isabelle sent me home early because I've put in more than enough hours this week."

"Modelling?"

"Two more one day shoots for Hugo and the trip to Milan in the first week of September. Oh, and some stuff for Vogue. Isabelle mentioned Runway wants me to model in the next issue too, so that will be done in the third week of August."

"Shouldn't you be studying, then?" Rachel asked with wide eyes, "I can help you prepare for the practical finals considering my experience."

"Unless you're classically train, I don't think you can help me Rachel. It's two theory exams and Wren's evaluation. I'm not too worried."

"Good for you," Santana snapped back, "this is my last break before the working the whole week. Cassie is a monster when she's booking shoots. At least you have an excuse to spread it out. Standing around looking pretty is tiring."

Kurt hummed in response, enjoying the frustrated look on Santana's face. "And Blaine's coming back on Friday. He says he'll be coming straight here because they signed the papers for the 1st of August."

"In that case, I request you have sex in his place because I will rip your dicks off if you disturb my sleep. Man hands and her latest boytoy is not as loud as you and gelhelmet."

Kurt blushed but shot back, "I'll take that into consideration."

Rachel stared at the two bicker back and forth, silently reaffirming the nothing that they were spending too much time together. She also noted that a Kurt didn't mention any call backs for any of the parts he auditioned for. In NYADA, no matter how much a star Rachel became, Kurt was step behind her.

When she won the solo at the Winter Recital, he was asked to audition and sing a solo too. He challenged her to a Midnight Madness and _won._ She hadn't wanted to believe that he had thrown the diva off but it was true. Cassandra July, who couldn't stand her, liked Kurt. Slowly, the praise she always heard, Kurt received too. Apart from piano lessons, he received no previous formal training; so of course it would seem his progress was amazing! He had so much more to fix. And then, he was chosen at the freshman soloist for the Year End Concert.

When he became a model, Rachel didn't care much. Because she knew that it was just an extra job. It wouldn't matter on Broadway. But then, there is was. On the damn billboard in the middle of Broadway. It wasn't fair. He didn't work as hard as her. It was her dream, her destiny to be on Broadway and now people noticed him because of his modelling.

It was a relief to see that he hadn't been cast, even as a chorus, because of his newfound fame in the fashion world.

Because now it was back to normal; she had a lead part on Broadway. Come the new semester, everyone would know she was the star of the students.

Kurt will get there, eventually. He just wasn't as talented as her. Nor could he fit in to as many diverse roles as her.

And as much as the ugly thought about her friend made a part her cringe, a larger part bubbled in satisfaction.

She was Rachel Berry; she was born to be a Star. No one would shine like her; or brighter.

~0~0~0~

Kurt shooed his dad away from the kitchen while Carole helped him make a quick but healthy lunch. They had come to New York for the weekend. That was the longest his dad could afford miss work at the garage, all things considered.

And Kurt was as busy as ever. He had just written his tests and summer classes had ended. He had a two week break before the new semester started up. Now, he focussed his time between Vogue and modelling, taking the odd audition while he was at it. More often than not he had been turned away due to his lack of experience. A kind director told him to audition for the NYADA plays for some easy experience. He could do that now he was a sophomore rather than a freshman.

"Is that your schedule?" Carole asked in shock as she stared at the wall next to the fridge. There were three schedule's up. Santana's was fairly fully booked but not back to back. Rachel's was full with Funny Girl and a few shifts at the diner. Just enough so she kept her job there. She had argued that Fanny was a working girl and the job was good research. And that she liked having a small savings for emergencies.

"The pink one is Rachel's, Santana's is red and mine's the white one," Kurt replied over his shoulder.

"Kurt, sweetie, the white schedule is the most full," Carole said in a worried voice.

"Not really," Kurt said as he cut up the sandwiches. "Now that summer classes are done. I have more time. I only have two one day shoots left and the trip to Milan in September, over my normal Vogue hours. I haven't got any more modelling jobs lined up after that. And apart from the odd audition, I don't have anything else to do so I have plenty free time."

Carole couldn't resist teasing, "So, you've been showing Blaine around New York then."

Kurt flushed at the reminder. Blaine had flew into New York on his way to Westerville. The use of bribery and schedules, Kurt managed to get the apartment to himself for Blaine's six hour layover. They honestly missed each other and planned on cuddling and talking about what was to come. Blaine was moving in to the apartment down the hall with Sam within the next week.

For the first time in a year, they would be in a relationship with each other, and in close proximity. They had to work out their relationship. And it really did start out innocently. Kurt found himself wrapped up in Blaine's arms as they snuggled on the couch. They were just going to talk but couldn't resist the lure of being able to physically touch each other after weeks apart.

Kurt could tell you who started it. It was a chaste kiss on lips, neck, _skin_. A drag of fingertips against the soft, warm skin. The slow bubbling of heat under their skins that made them crave more.

Kurt blushed at the memory what how visit went.

Blaine shipped most of his things from Ohio and moved in down the corridor. But honestly, the two often migrated to which ever apartment was free. If Santana or Rachel were free, they were at Blaine's; or vice versa. In the rare occurrence where Sam wasn't working a shift at the diner while the girls were free, he proved to be a true 'bro' and spent the time at Kurt's place.

Free, alone time together, meant Kurt and Blaine could do more than just talk about their relationship. It was the first time they were truly alone together; not having to worry about parental interruptions. But at the same time, their relationship matured in ways neither expected.

Each boy was more secure in themselves, in their own individual identity that hadn't quite been there before. And they were learning about giving each other personal space and time. A couple, to Kurt's amused realisation, did not need to spend every waking hour together. In fact, that would be unhealthy for a relationship. What was hard, was rebuilding that trust. Knowing Blaine was out and trusting him. There were moments for Kurt, when he looked in the mirror and wondered if he would be enough this time.

"Kurt?" Carole broke through his musings. Kurt hummed in response as he turned to look at her. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Kurt smiled and honestly replied, "I'm good, Carole."

He finished up the sandwiches. He moved to carry the platter to the lounge but Carole stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Burt! Finn! Lunch!" she called to be heard over the television, "They should eat at the table. Heaven knows they have probably seen that episode of Top Gear already."

The two lumbered into the kitchenette and sat at the table.

"Is Blaine going to joining us for lunch?" Burt asked as he eyed the sandwiches and looked mournfully at the plate of ships he knew he wasn't going to get. Finn was already eating.

Kurt glanced at the clock, "Yes but he might be late. He had the morning shift today."

"How did everyone get a job at that diner anyways?" Carole asked with a smile as she sat down and helped herself to the food.

Kurt snorted. "Spotlight diner has a reputation for singers. The owner was trying to save cash and rather than hire performers, he hired waiters who could sing. Santana got a job there. I have Vogue but Rachel needed a part time job, especially during the holidays. And it has flexible hours. Santana quite a few weeks ago, but managed to talk the owner into interviewing Sam and Blaine when they got here. I think the guy was just grateful to have staff that could actually sing."

Burt nodded as he ate his sandwich, still eyeing the plate of chips.

It was Finn who asked, "And what about Tina? Isn't she coming here?"

Kurt nodded and swallowed his food before answering. "Tina is moving into the dorms for the first year at least. She's coming up to New York next week, and will be staying here. Mike's visiting and Blaine offered his couch. She said she will look for a job when she gets here but I know Sam and Blaine both mentioned her to Gustave. So, if nothing else, she could probably get a job at the diner."

"Seems like all you glee kids are still sticking together," Burt smiled.

Kurt grinned at that. "Puck's at OSU with Finn. Quinn's at Yale. Britney is at MIT. Mercedes is at UCLA. Mike's in Chicago but I know he's been trying to get a transfer to Julliard."

The table descended into relative silence as they ate, only to be interrupted by both a knock on the door and Kurt's phone ringing. Carole waved Kurt's towards his phone as she made for the door, knowing who was behind it.

"Blaine, honey," she greeted with a smile as he opened the door. The boy, young man really, had obviously stopped at his apartment to shower and change, if the loose curls were any indication. And the bright bowtie.

"Carole!" he smiled and hugged her as he entered. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Kurt said you would might be a little late. We just sat down to eat," she replied as the she watched him. Blaine was obviously comfortable in the apartment, dropping his keys and wallet into the bowl by the door and hung his coat on the free hook. She smiled slightly as he glanced at the mirror and tried to push down his unruly curls. "Come on, I set some aside for you, just in case."

Blaine smiled gratefully as they entered the apartment, eyes searching out Kurt. The smile dropped as he made a beeline for his boyfriend who was on the phone but looking wide-eyed and pale.

At Blaine's movement, Burt turned to look at his son. Carole watched from the entrance way, worried at Kurt's paler than normal appearance.

Blaine was already wrapping an arm around Kurt, long past any embarrassment over small gestures of affection in front of the elder Hummels. He seemed to be listening to the conversation Kurt was having with a frown.

"No, I have a part time job but those rehearsal times are fine. During the term, I tend to work weekends mainly and the hours are flexible…. Yes… Start this week? Weekdays? I should be able to but the first week of September I have to go to Europe... Yes, it's part of my job… What do I do? I work for Vogue dot com, the number of my employer Isabelle Wright is on my resume. I'm also a model for Vogue so I need to go to the Milan Fashion Week."

There was silence in the apartment as everyone's attention was on Kurt, and his conversation.

Kurt blushed, "Um, yes. That is me. That billboard? Yes. But, I won't take on modelling jobs during term time so I will be free for rehearsals. Why? Honestly, between classes, work and rehearsals, I won't have time."

He seemed to listen before answering, with a bright smile, "That's perfect. I'll be there Tuesday evening."

He hung up before hugging Blaine tightly. Blaine made an 'oomph!' sound at the sudden hug but hugged back instinctively.

Kurt was grinning, laughing slightly in disbelief as he turned to face his parents.

"That was Gwen Mugg, the assistant director of Peter Pan; the production I auditioned for," Kurt explained.

It was Blaine who caught on first.

"You got part?!"

Kurt nodded, beaming, "I've been cast as the Lost Boy, Matt. It's a speaking part and a chorus part."

Blaine laughed and pulled Kurt into a hug, kissing him regardless of the fact Burt was sitting not even five meters.

"You're first Broadway part! Congratulations!" he babbled, "We need to celebrate!"

"Broadway?" Burt asked as he stood up, "You auditioned for a Broadway part? You didn't tell me kiddo."

Kurt was laughing as Blaine refused to let him go, "It was a long shot. But it gets better."

Burt moved across to hug his son, quickly followed by Carole and Finn. He raised an eyebrow in question.

Kurt flushed, "They cast Sean Carmichael as Peter but they want me to his understudy. I get to play Peter Pan at least once a week when the show starts!"

And then there was a Hummel Family group hug with Kurt in the middling, laughing.

Santana returned to a celebration and the good news that evening, with Rachel half a step behind her.

"What are we celebrating?" she asked with a raised eyebrow at the bottle of Champaign opened on the table and the glasses everyone seemed to be holding. She smiled at Carole as she was handed one too. Rachel hung her coat and took the alcohol with a look at Finn.

"I get to tell!" Burt burst before Blaine could even opened his mouth. Blaine pouted but snuggled into Kurt's side on the couch as the girls joined them in the 'living room'.

Kurt rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt.

"Kurt got the part as Matt, the Lost Boy in Peter Pan!" Burt said with pride.

Santana gasped, "No way. The 'there's a snowball's chance in hell I'm getting a part in that play' role! Holy shit, Porcelain!" Kurt merely grinned behind his glass.

Rachel smiled and nodded, "That is fantastic, Kurt! It's a brilliant start to your Broadway career! Even if it is just a chorus part!"

"And a speaking part!" Blaine added, "But that's not all."

"What?" Santana egged, "What else? Gelmet, you can't leave me hanging like this or I will pull out the razor blades!"

Burt was grinning proudly, "Kurt is the understudy for Peter Pan."

"Holy FUCK! Did you cash in all your good luck this summer or something, Hummel?" Santana shrieked as she moved to tackle slash hit Kurt. Blaine, wisely, ducked out of the way.

Rachel's smile froze. "You're the understudy to _Sean Carmichael?_"

Kurt was being hugged and then taking punches to his arm form Santana with Blaine trying to get out of the war zone.

"Yeah," it was Finn who answered. Finn who hadn't really wanted to see Rachel again. She was his first love; and his first heartbreak. "He's going to be Peter like once a week. It's awesome, right?"

Rachel swallowed and nodded, "Yeah… awesome…"

~0~0~0~

Everything slowly fell into place as the summer drew to a close.

Santana was able to work as a model near full time, but kept her job singing. She also signed up for business classes out of all things at NYU. When asked, she shrugged, "It's a good idea to have a back-up plan. And I actually have money now."

Rachel was loving the part of Fanny, and the directors were loving her. She still grumbled about Kerry, the understudy who Rachel swore might kill her for her part, but Rachel was the undisputed star for Funny Girl.

Blaine worked, choosing to earn his rent than reply on his parents. He pouted when he realised he couldn't go to Milan with Kurt because it would be during his freshman orientation at NYU. He still grinned like an idiot every time he saw a picture of Kurt around New York. And his grandmother was demanding that Kurt come to London for a proper White Christmas.

Sam found himself becoming Kurt's best guy friend, excluding Blaine. And that the klaine couple were the most awesome wingmen in the history of bromances. And, to every shock and horror, Santana had a heart. He had taken a leaf out of Kurt's book and applied to be a model at Vogue.

Tina spent two weeks living in Casa Crazy but managed to get a job working in a boutique that was within walking distant from school. Mike visited, for a week. A week in which Blaine lived with Kurt, giving them his room. Kurt had smiled at that, quietly telling Mike that they knew how hard a long distance relationship was.

Kurt fell into the rhythm of work and rehearsals, with the odd modelling jobs. Working on Peter Pan made him giddy. He knew, without a doubt, that he wanted to be on stage more than on camera. The first rehearsal was awkward, even if it was just a read through. He had been introduced as actor for Matt and the understudy. Sean Carmichael was friendly, which shocked Kurt because he half expected the actor to hate him for being his understudy. Rehearsals varied between script reading, acting, singing, and dancing and stunt routines.

It was Jenny Dogger, who played Wendy, who recognised him first. And it was during the second rehearsal. They had been practicing flying across the stage held up by thin ropes. Kurt found himself not being freaked out by this. Then again, some of the stunts Sue Sylvester had been crazier.

"That's where I know you from!" She suddenly said in the middle of a break, as she stared at Kurt. Kurt looked at her with a confused look. "It's been bugging me for since we met! You're Kurt Hummel!"

Kurt nodded but looked at her warily, "Yes. I did say that was my name."

She shook her head, "No. _Kurt Hummel, _the vogue model! That's why I recognised you! You're on the billboard near the Gershwin Theatre."

"Huh," Sean added as he looked as Kurt, "She's right."

Kurt shrugged, "It's a part time job."

~0~0~0~

Boo made this a three shot of epic length. Blame him not me. I'm pretty sure I won't be writing anything more in this verse unless Boo bites me again. (Boo, please don't)

Cover III: 38 Pages, 19500 words approx.

Screw you Boo! Let me sleep!

Edited 2014-09-29

Please let me know if there are any mistakes I missed.

-Amira


	4. Oneshot: Barely Breathing

One Shot: Barely Breathing.

Cover 'Verse IV

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did. I don't own Seo Joon from Love Rain or Miranda Presley from Devil Wears Prada or Marc Jacobs. In fact, I own nothing but the insanity that lives in my mind. And even that is iffy.

Summary: It's the start of a new school year and Santana's Mexican third Eye is tingling with what must be a sign for an upcoming apocalypse. Blaine is learning something that Kurt knew already: that love doesn't fix everything. And Kurt is trying to juggle the insanity that has become his life. But the old doubts come creeping in.

Cover Verse Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric. Kurtana friendship.

This is written for Rin Hitokiri for correctly answering that Seo Joon is Jang Geun Suk from Love Rain; the Korean drama. As promised: a one shot in the category of your choosing!

~0~0~0~

Before the storm of class started, the girls hosted a 'Last Supper' so to speak. Kurt amused himself by calling it that. In the studio apartment, the Glee New Yorkers gathered to enjoy the last dredges of summer vacation.

Six people were a tight squeeze on the small kitchen table, causing Sam to offer to carry the table of their apartment down next time. Santana snorted at that, commenting that perhaps they should just go picnic style next time and sit on the floor.

Good, home-cooked food was devoured and wine handed out; they lounged around the sitting room, just enjoying the evening of good food and friends.

"How did you get this?" Sam wondered out loud as he looked at his glass of wine.

"Santana; and don't ask," Kurt replied before Santana could say anything. The grin she had meant trouble. He shot her a look and she pouted.

Kurt was curled up into to Blaine's arms, but across from Santana. The two models' friendship had evolved in a way no one could imagine. Kurt was once again the spitfire diva bitch that was pre-Karofsky.

It was like Kurt rediscovered something that had almost been beaten out of him. Santana, on the other hand, let someone other than Brittany in. She trusted Kurt, knowing his protected that trust fiercely. She was still bitchy, but a touch less mean and was willing to not cross the undrawn lines. Kurt reigned in her defensiveness, but knew that everything that happened with Brittany still hurt her deeply. Deep enough that she could bring herself to honestly try dating another girl. Not even the very pretty waitress from the Spotlight Diner whom made butterflies in her stomach. Kurt was working on that.

Tina snorted into her glass before raising it, "To a new year!"

The group chanted cheers and took a sip, laughing over how late the 'new year' was. Music hummed softly in the background, some new song on the radio. It was the only way to play music without the group fighting over the songs.

"This year is going to be so busy," Santana groaned after downing her glass and reached to pour another. "For all of us."

Rachel beamed at that, sitting forward on the single couch, "Well, between NYADA and starring as Fanny Brice, I'm going to have to give up working at the diner soon. Rehearsals are taking up more and more of my time, and considering they are paying me for a lead role, I should be fine." She beamed at the room, practically bouncing in her seat. "And according to NYADA Admin they are willing to rearrange my schedule to part time because I am playing a lead on Broadway and not a small part."

Santana rolled her eyes but Kurt smiled at her, He was happy for Rachel. She worked hard and kept her eye on the prize. He just hoped at the end of it all, when she looked around, that she wouldn't be alone. She had a tendency to throw people away, or under a bus, to get what she wants. He knew that her actions had hurt Finn, and broken when little trust was left between the pair. And Kurt had never really warmed up to Brody, but he was better than her random flavour of the week. At least that had been some form of a relationship.

"Well, I'm just happy that Blaine is going to NYU with me," Sam said, breaking the quiet form his place on the floor, "Man, that place is huge! I'm going to get lost. Hopefully orientation next week will help."

Blaine chuckled at that, "It's a good thing our departments are close. But I think we may get a bit lost it we try and visit you guys at NYADA. That place is a maze."

"Don't worry," Santana replied dryly, shooting a look at Kurt, "that place, day or night, is always busy. You can always ask for directions."

Kurt sighed at that but nodded because it was true. The action turned Santana's head towards him and her lips pulled into a dangerous grin.

"I propose a toast to this lucky bastard who is walking Milan for Armani and demand a present form Italy; preferably shoes," Santana said loudly as she raised her glass again.

Tina was quick to second her, making Kurt laugh.

"Duly noted," he threw back dryly as he raised his own glass.

Rachel frowned at the news, yet again, "Are you sure that is wise? Missing the first week of NYADA? You may need the orientation because you weren't there last year. You did only join in the second semester after all."

Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt, frowning slightly as Kurt tensed at Rachel's thoughtless wording. It was a sore spot with Kurt; knowing he didn't get in while Rachel, who choked, got in. It took talking to Carmen to understand that while he scored high on the audition, his application was too bare nor did he have a recommendation from the school. That had shocked Kurt, as he told Blaine in soft murmurs when they were alone. Neither Mr Schue nor Miss Pillsbury had written the letter Kurt had asked for. He had trusted them to send one.

But what hurt the most was that Mr Schue had sent a letter for Rachel. It was the taste of betrayal that Kurt had tried so hard to overlook but it slowly festered under his skin. When Carmen had told him that, Kurt knew his expression showed how shocked he truly was. What little trust he had in the glee teacher crumbled. In hindsight, Kurt knew he should have asked Sue to write a letter of recommendation, she would have done so even if it was only out of Cheerio pride.

Carmen had asked, then, why no one stood up for him. She told him about how she had been pestered by the other members of his glee club and the teacher. Why had no one questioned why Kurt received a rejection?

Kurt had smiled blandly at that, responding as honestly as he could. "The only person who has ever stood up and fought for me is my dad. I asked him not to. As much as I hate to say it, I think a part of me has always believed I wasn't good enough."

The honesty had hurt. But it made him rage that somewhere in the hell that was high school he had lost the belief in himself. In the end, Kurt would like to believe he was stronger.

"Well," Kurt said slowly as he looked at Rachel, "Hardison signed me off as a part time student for this semester because of Peter and Vogue, and after picking up the classical courses. He said it would be easier to just take the term easy from the start. I'm taking the bare minimum for my practicals courses and two light theory courses. He spoke to Director Travos, and they are willing to give me a performance mark based off my acting in Peter. Plus, the amount of good publicity they received from my modelling gave me some leeway."

Rachel looked stunned before blurting out, "But you're only chorus?!"

Kurt nodded, half expecting the reaction and a part of him was disappointed in Rachel for looking at him like that. "Yes, but I'm also the understudy for Peter, so I qualify as main cast as I need to be at all the main cast rehearsals too. It's only for this semester, because of the crazy rehearsal times. I'll be back to being a full time student while the show is on. It's quite common apparently."

The conversation moved, but the news that Kurt would also be a part time student because of a play left a bitter taste in Rachel's mouth.

Santana shot Kurt a 'told you so' look which he promptly ignored. He knew Rachel still had 'star issues' but he, unlike Santana, was confident she would get over it quickly. After all, she had gotten her dream and was starring on Broadway first. And the old competitive streak in him left Kurt with a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. One he tried to wash away with a mouthful of wine and Blaine's excited chatter about NYU.

~0~0~0~

Summer came to an end with little hurrah as everyone was busy. Sam, Tina and Blaine prepared to enter college life and found themselves running around New York trying to find their feet. Sam and Blaine started at NYU, in the art and music department respectively.

Sam was thrown into a new scene, oddly reminding him of his first days at McKinley before joining Glee. He was left floundering at being alone. He was taking Art, with marketing, under the advice of his parents. It would give a chance to use his skills in a job that actually offered financial security; something he had come to appreciate after what happened in his junior year. He had, once, thought about playing football but in senior year, Sam realised that was not how he wanted to spend his life.

NYU Art was an interesting department. Most of the time, Sam thought the people where a little weird, even by his standards. But he found a small group of friends in his classes; one guy had even offered to study with him for his marketing courses. Blaine had gone with him to a counsellors during orientation to try and see if there was help offered to those with learning disabilities. NYU did in fact offer extra help and Sam signed up hesitantly but grateful. He knew he couldn't rely on Blaine to help him.

Modelling, on the other hand, didn't offer that many jobs. He didn't get a lucky break like Kurt, or Santana, but they were sending his portfolio out. Instead, he worked at the Spotlight diner under the perpetually grumpy Gunther. It let him sing, and girls tended to tip him well.

Santana was taking on as many modelling jobs as possible. Her logic was that while she had jobs being offered, the more she could save. Modelling had not been her first choice of career but it wasn't something she had considered properly before. And it was far more complicated than she thought.

And the steady income allowed her to actually save some money over and above having to pay for her night classes at NYU. Business was not her dream but it was a good fall back and every time Santana walked into class, she could remember the proud, and relieved, smile on her mother's face. Her mother had gotten lucky and married out of Lima Heights, with her father being a doctor. She had often said to Santana, that all she wanted for her baby girl was to be happy and able to stand on her own. That Santana should never need a man to save her.

Santana wanted to joke with her mum after coming out, that she would prefer a woman coming to her rescue, but she never could bring herself to say the words. Not with how most of her family reacted to the news. The pain was still fresh; too fresh.

Rachel was rushing between about rehearsals and loving every moment of it. She was the newcomer star. It was her every dream. And things only got better when the semester started again. Walking into NYADA was a public acknowledgement of her talents. Everyone knew she had gotten Fanny Brice on Broadway. She was a sophomore and on Broadway. They flocked to her. Wanting to know her; be her. It was like after Winter Recital all over again; and she loved it. As much as she wanted, she was never popular in high school. Not even after dating the quarterback and starring in musicals or going to Nationals. But she was popular at NYADA. And she would not say it out loud, because it seemed so shallow, but she loved it.

The only down side was the terror known as her dance teacher: Cassandra July. The crazy woman hated her from the moment she stepped into the class. Rachel knew her teacher was jealous of her talent and youth and now, her newfound success. And that July had thrown everything she had away by getting drunk and losing her reputation.

Cassandra had gotten Rachel's hopes up that things had changed. The first class, Cassandra applauded Rachel, only to turn around and poke at her every insecurity. And then drilled the class so hard that they were sore the next morning.

It would be another two months before Funny Girl opened. Until then, Rachel would work to the bone to show everyone what she could do. Because she was born to be a star.

Kurt managed to finish the last of his short term contracts the weekend before NYADA started up again. The last major commitment had been Milan, and walking for Armani had been a completely new experience for him. This time, people were watching him and knowing who he was. Papers said he stole the show, again, but Kurt really could pay much mind to it. He was back on the plane and in New York for his new term at NYADA within 48 hours of the runway.

Kurt's results from the summer semester were better than expected and he was officially doing a Performance Major doubled with a Classical Major in Opera. Hardison was quite impressed with Kurt's role of Matt but quite smug that his 'freshman' was the understudy for Peter Pan.

Wren would continue his practical lessons with Kurt, meaning Kurt would have to travel to Julliard twice a week. He would also need to attend two classes at the prestigious rival of NYADA, so he would be spending two days a week attending the other campus. Unfortunately, it took almost two weeks to co-ordinate his 'new' timetable, which had to allow for traveling time between the two campuses. Wren told Kurt that Julliard would accredit his Classical major; meaning his graduation certificate would be from both NYADA and Julliard. They had only done so a few times in the past; less than four dozen instances in the last decade.

And that was how Kurt found himself taking a new route after leaving the Vogue dot com offices. Isabelle had him working on a new 'up-coming designers' special from the moment he stepped into the offices. To meet the minimum hours to keep his job as a PA, Kurt worked from 7 till midday, twice a week and then one weekends. Over and above being paid better than an intern, he also got the health benefits.

And now, he going to Julliard to attend his two classes followed by his singing lesson with Wren. Usually he would arrive after the majority of the classes at Julliard were over, so this would be the first time he actually interacted with the other students. It wasn't that he was purposefully avoiding them, it's just that Julliard and NYADA were rival colleges; in the best and worst ways.

Kurt felt like a trespasser as he walked the halls of Julliard. The campus was older, and perhaps more elegant in way he could appreciate, than NYADA. Julliard was the top musical college in America; if you looked only at the classical music. NYADA made its reputation on being the Broadway Elite. UCLA holds the reputation on being the Hollywood feeder; but everyone knew the biggest Hollywood stars came from everywhere.

He slipped through the halls quietly, avoiding any eye contact. The campus felt strange to him. Kurt was used the vibrancy of NYADA; not the cool collected state of mind that Julliard projected. Following the printed out map, Kurt made his way to the classroom for his History of Classical Music class. He didn't know why this was a compulsory class but if had to take it, according to Hardison and Wren at least.

Kurt chose to sit near the back of the class, to be out of the way. Unpacked a notebook and his stationery case, he couldn't help but mutter as he took his seat.

"Why the hell do I have to take this class here?" Kurt could only watch the room fill up with students who actually knew each other. It was like when he first started at NYADA; a half-year freshman. At least he had known Rachel back then. Now he was a complete outsider. And it put him on edge. "Gaga, this is awkward. And considering how my summer went that is saying something."

Sometimes it felt like every time Kurt found his footing, something had to happen to force him out of his comfort zone. He finally felt comfortable as a student at NYADA, he starts taking classical music as a second major. Finally found his stride as Isabelle's PA? Let's make Kurt a model! Boyfriend, first love, cheated on, won back, dating again. Everything the same yet so different.

Kurt wanted to groan at the thought of his boyfriend. Blaine was struggling to find his place at NYU; he was used to being _that guy_. The big fish, the star. And now, at NYU, he was nobody. Just another face in the crowd. Even when he transferred to McKinley, the New Directions knew his talent. Blaine was struggling, and refused to turn to Kurt.

And Kurt knew he was struggling. The frustration was evident on his face when they met up during the free moments in their day; usually for dinner. Blaine threw himself into his coursework, aching to shine in some way.

Looking down at his hand, Kurt twisted his fingers together. It was a nervous tick he had been trying to get rid-off. Well, an anxious tick.

It hurt.

It hurt that Blaine couldn't turn to his boyfriend for help or comfort. And Kurt knew why; without having to ask Blaine. Because he knew Blaine. And his insecurities that he tried to hide so well behind the dapper smiled and manners.

'Blaine can't turn to me because I'm so comfortable here. Unlike him, I'm successful here; I carved out my place. And he, despite his best attempts not to, he does resent me for it. He can't stand the thought that he is struggling with something I didn't. But he's forgotten. How I struggled ta Dalton. I just wish he would let me help.'

It hurt.

It hurt that, although the love never diminished, Kurt could see the changes in their relationship. The trust was broken. The strains of changes they both went through. The flow of confidence and success and small pulls of competition was pulling at them.

Out of everything, Kurt never though success would be one of the strains.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe Blaine was trying to find himself, something Kurt had come to know by walking the halls of McKinley year after year. Kurt discovered himself and made no apologies for it.

'Patience. I need patience. It's been a while. I've forgotten what it's like to be in a relationship.'

And Blaine was trying to find his feet and make new friends. He went out and that made Kurt close his eyes and wince every time he read the new text. Because a part of him half expected Blaine's teary face with the words, 'I've been with someone.'

And Kurt hated himself for thinking like that.

The thoughts plagued him, forcing him pay only a vague attention to class as he automatically took down sporadic notes. It was a two hour lecture, only to be followed by another two hour lecture then his voice lesson with Wren.

'Just when I get my life in order, my relationship falls apart,' Kurt thought dryly, silently cursing the fact there were no windows in the classroom, 'Now the real question: can I handle leaving Blaine a second time?'

~0~0~0~

If he wasn't at class or Vogue; he was at rehearsals. Kurt was actually grateful at his part was so small, and he only really spent three rehearsals a week playing Peter alongside Sean. Sean had daily rehearsals, but that was get the show flowing and cohesive. Kurt merely had to slot into the space Sean created. Director Travos had Kurt rehearsing solo to catch up; and it was far more effective.

It was strange to feel welcomed by his fellow actors, rather than to expect sabotage and jealousy. Santana had laughed at that, when he had mentioned it, and pointed out that between the Cheerios who were ruthless and Rachel Berry who was crazy, he didn't have the best experience working in a team.

Kurt pointed out that the Warblers were a good team. Santana stayed quiet but Kurt knew the words she would like to say. Her eyes said it through the silence.

'Yeah. But were you ever really one of them in their eyes?'

It was a question Kurt would rather not think about. Because the motto of 'Once a Warbler, always a Warbler's seemed to apply to every Warbler but him. They forgot about him after transferring; cutting all ties.

Because in truth, he was never one of them.

And somehow Santana had seen that where even Blaine had been blind.

But being on the set of Peter showed him a team; where everyone was out for themselves but not at the price of the team. Oh, Kurt knew that any of the other 'Lost Boys' would happily knock him off the stage if it meant that they would get the lines. And the side looks at the 'new comer' who bagged the understudy part.

Director Ian Travos had sat down with Sean and Kurt, explaining what the executives had wanted, in terms of who played Peter. After some discussion, it was agreed that Kurt would take the Saturday Matinee and the Wednesday night show, because it was the quietest night, and only after the first month of the show running. Plus, any times Sean couldn't do a show. It gave Kurt more time to get the role down.

But rehearsals were harder than he expected; giving him flashbacks to his short stint on the Cheerios. It seemed that every minute of the rehearsal was to be used.

And after a classes at NYADA, the dance routines were most tiring. Most days, he barely made it back to the apartment aching to passing out on his bed but looking for Blaine because it was the only time they were really free.

Kurt knew he was going to be running ragged. But he wanted to keep his job at Vogue and with the lack of modelling jobs, he did have some breathing space. Time, which Kurt cringed in mortification that he had to use to keep up with class.

Rachel was a whirlwind, and he usually only saw her in the mornings or evenings. They didn't actually share classes in the first semester. And some evenings, she went out with friends from NYADA or her current boyfriend.

Santana was around during the day, but just as busy. Her modelling really kicked off and Kurt was happy for her. But he couldn't remember the last time they had a real conversation without one of them having to run out.

'Probably in the summer which was almost a month ago.'

Kurt was tired. It was Thursday and only month into the semester. He worked at Vogue in the morning, followed by NYADA classes and extra practice for practicals in the afternoon till late. As much as he wanted to spend his free time relaxing, Kurt knew that he had solo rehearsals which he had not planned for in his timetable.

And most of all, he wanted to spend his free time with Blaine, who would be in class till six because the lucky boy only started at ten on a Thursday.

Kurt groaned and stretched out his tired limbs. He had been at the vogue offices at 7am and had been trying to fix the mess some intern made of Isabelle's schedule while keeping up with his daily responsibilities. Then he had a theory class and his vocals class followed by another two hours of extra dance practice. Because if Kurt didn't nail the routine in his next class, Cassandra would nail his ass to the wall.

But he was tired, so very tired already.

After a run-through of both July's routine and the Lost Boys main dance, Kurt left NYADA quickly and quietly, head bowed. It was short ride on the subway to get home and Bushwick never looked so good.

"Anyone home?" Kurt asked the moment he walked through the door. "Rachel? Santana?"

No answer came. A peep at the kitchen wall showed at the Santana would be heading to NYU night classes and a note from Rachel was stuck on the fridge saying she would be 'out'. Kurt sighed, at the note.

"She needs to rest," Kurt grumbled at the thought as the thought of going out made his body ache more. "How the hell is still not tired between NYADA and rehearsals?"

Then Kurt remembered the ridiculous schedule she had since high school. She had been preparing for getting such a role since then, and the tiredness that comes with it. Rachel had kept her waitressing job, not for money as her dads paid her portion of the rent, but for the experience for her role.

'Authenticity!' Rachel had exclaimed dramatically.

Going to the curtained area that was 'his room' Kurt dropped his bag and made a mental note to do his laundry soon. The amount of rehearsals he had been attending resulted his dancing clothing being used every day and he was sure he wouldn't have anything clean left for next week.

A long soak in the bath tub sounded amazing to Kurt, but he reached for his phone. A free apartment meant prime alone time with Blaine, which was something that had been rare since the holidays. In fact, since Milan, Kurt could count the 'dates' they had been on. It wasn't exactly how he imagined what living in New York with Blaine would have been like.

There were no messages but it was late. Blaine should be back at his apartment. Kurt pressed his number 2 speed dial, the argument with Santana and her vexation at being number 3 always made him smile, and waited.

It didn't take long, and by the fourth ring, Blaine answered. The smile dropped from Kurt's face at the background noise. Music sounded beyond the chatter and raucous laughter.

"Kurt!" Blaine said happily, his voice light and indulgent. Kurt vaguely wondered if he had been drinking at, eyeing the clock, seven pm.

"Blaine, hi honey," Kurt replied, almost automatically. "I thought you were finishing around the same time as me so I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner?"

'But you're out, again,' was not added.

"Sorry babe," Blaine said, he must have stepped outside or a quiet corner. "A bunch of my friends wanted to hit this student dive on campus and I forgot that you finished early…"

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt said slightly tired, "Just remember you have an early lecture tomorrow."

Blaine sighed, frustration lacing his voice, "I know Kurt."

"Have fun Blaine," Kurt said evenly. "I'm going to call it a night. Maybe we can grab breakfast tomorrow? There is this lovely little coffee shop that does bagels in the morning."

In the background there were calls for Blaine. Kurt closed his eyes. Blaine had bene going out more often than not after class. Group projects and discussions he could understand but not once had Blaine extended the invitation to him when Kurt had been free.

'It's not like I'm also studying music,' Kurt had mused sarcastically.

Blaine sighed yet again, as if speaking to Kurt was a chore. And Gaga, that hurt.

"I've got to go, Kurt. Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning. Love you."

"Love you too," Kurt replied, the smile in his voice true as it the one sentiment that would always bring a smile to his face. And Blaine hung up.

Ending the call, Kurt retreated to the bathroom. A long soak and maybe running through lines was his new plans for the evening.

~0~0~0~

The next morning, Kurt was dragging a hung over Blaine to the little coffee shop he found. It was just outside the station where both of them had to transfer lines; Blaine to get to NYU and Kurt to get to the theatre.

It was a strange parody of stances. Kurt was refreshed for the first time in over a week and Blaine was stumbling over his feet. Kurt plied him with coffee, choosing to sit and eat seeing as he had budgeted for the time in the morning routine.

Blaine munched slowly on the greasy bagel, moaning, "I could have slept more."

"If I didn't drag you out of bed you would have missed your morning classes," Kurt replied with a smile. It felt like a good day.

"You're far too happy for the morning," Blaine grumbled back.

"No, I'm merely not hung over," Kurt quipped.

Blaine ignored him and inhaled the coffee before staring at the empty cup mournfully. Kurt smiled at the sad puppy expression his boyfriend had on his face.

It was quiet between the two of them. And not the pleasant quiet.

Kurt struggled to find words as the silence was slowly suffocating.

"You went out again," Kurt blurted out; cursing his loud mouth inwardly.

Blaine's eyes flashed towards him, and Kurt could read the irritation in them. "So?"

Kurt shook his head, "I just miss spending time with you. And it was the third time this week."

The third time you cancelled on me, this week.

"Well, I would invite you but you're either busy or too tired," Blaine shot back.

Kurt winced. It was true that if Blaine had invited him last night he would have said he was exhausted. And he had been.

"I'm not the one with no free time," Blaine muttered.

Kurt bristled and lashed back, "And I'm not the one who keeps cancelling."

Before Blaine could reply his phone went off. Kurt sighed and closed his eyes. Blaine answered whatever message it was. Kurt wouldn't ask because Blaine never offered an answer.

"I've got to go," Blaine said as he stood up. Kurt looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm working tonight so I'll be late. Sam and I might go over to Pete's place after for the house party. I know you're busy so don't wait up."

It was true. He had a full day of rehearsals on Fridays. He would be done by nine though.

"Blaine," Kurt said helplessly. He didn't know how to put words to his feelings. The feelings that he hated Blaine going out so often with friends Kurt hadn't even met yet. Friends whom Kurt wasn't even sure knew about him.

Blaine said nothing but dropped a quick kiss on his head and was gone.

Kurt groaned and stared at his half-full cup of coffee. He had eaten half of his low-fat cream cheese and cucumber bagel. Wrapping it up, he put it in his bag for later. New York was expensive and it wasn't Kurt to waste food.

Shouldering his bag, Kurt smiled at the waitress as she said goodbye and made his way to his rehearsals. He really didn't want to think about what was happening with his love life. Because it meant facing the ugly truth; whatever it was.

A full day of rehearsals later, and Kurt was home at last. True to his word, he had a voicemail from Blaine that he was at the party, and by the sounds of it, it was a wild one. Kurt got it. The craziness of a first year. Hell, Kurt got a tattoo on his back that said 'It gets better' as his crazy first year stunt. Alcohol never appealed to him after sophomore year. And the tongue ring in the drawer was the only evidence of the other crazy stunt. Thank Gaga the hole healed.

"Anyone home?" Kurt called out like clockwork as he entered.

"Kitchen!" Santana replied, "We're eating chicken cos Rachel is at vocal rehearsal and then a group project. Something about a dance?"

Kurt popped his head into the kitchen, smiling at the Latina who was staring down the oven in hopes it cooked faster. She waved him away, giving Kurt the chance to drop his things in his room and take a quick shower.

"Dance project?" she questioned as she plated his portion of chicken with a side of spinach. No carbs, lots of protein, for models.

"Not my course," Kurt replied before adding. "Looks fantastic."

"It better be. I followed the damn recipe to the letter," Santana grumbled. She hated cooking. She would rather trade cleaning chores for cooking turns any day.

The chicken was good. Kurt made a note to keep the recipe in the 'Big File of Approved Recipes' they kept.

"You're home early. No class?" Kurt asked as they ate.

"Class was cancelled. Lecturer is ill."

"Hence the cooking," Kurt smirked.

"Well," Santana shot back, her own smirk growing, "I had to soften you up somehow."

Kurt groaned, "What do you want now, Satan?"

Santana dropped the games and said very seriously, "What's happening between you and Blaine?"

Kurt went silent. He bit his lip and gave an honest answer to the one person who he would trust with his relationship problems, apart from his dad and that was just awkward. "I don't know."

"Hit me."

Silence.

She stayed silent, eating slowly as Kurt gathered his thoughts.

"I really don't know," Kurt said helplessly. "I mean, I don't have time anymore and I get that he's frustrated that I have schedule to spend time with him but it's like he doesn't get that he has a schedule too. He's got a job and classes too."

"I haven't seen the two of you act love-dovey in weeks and that's like a sign for an upcoming apocalypse.

"I'm flattered that you think my relationship problems are signs of the end of the world."

"Kurt, last year was shit for you on so many levels but you're relationship with Blaine trumped even NYADA."

"We haven't talked in ages," Kurt admitted, giving up on eating, "when we finally get some time together, it's awkward and it's never been awkward with us. We made time so we could spend it together, even if it's just dinner here. But he keeps cancelling and hanging out with these friends from class who I've never met and he hasn't ever invited me. I may be busy and tired but I would have gone because it's important to him. It just feels like we don't have time for each other and we are moving in two very different, and separate circles."

Santana sat back and really looked at him for a moment. Kurt gulped because he knew what was happening.

The infamous Mexican Third Eye.

"You've both been busy but he's been cancelling on you. But it's more than that. He's going out alone and it's bothering you more than you let on," she said frankly.

Kurt replied defensively, "I get that's he's making friends and trying to find his feet. He doesn't need a clingy boyfriend. But he won't talk about any of his problems to me. All we talk about is class lately, if we talk at all."

"Kurt," Santana said quietly, "what is really going on?"

Kurt closed his eyes. It was bubbling inside of him. The uncomfortable thoughts he tried to keep pressing down. The 'what ifs' he refused to acknowledge because it literally made him sick. He didn't want voice those thoughts.

"I love Blaine. I'm seriously crazy about him. I jumped at the chance to model in London just so I could see him over the break," Kurt admitted.

"And?" Santana prodded lightly, her hands itching for alcohol to make this easier on both of them.

"How do I trust him again?" Kurt blurted out, his eyes widening at his words, hands moving to cover his mouth. As if they could take but those words.

Santana sighed. She had hoped that her two rainbow gays had sorted out these problems before they jumped back together. But, apparently not. Then again, they were bat-shit crazy in love with each other.

"He's going out without you and you keep wondering what's happening," Santana said evenly.

"I trust him, I do! But I keep imaging that he would come back one night and tell me…" Kurt paused, his voice going higher as he got more emotional. "Last time, he loved me and he still… cheated. He loves me now but how does that stop him?"

"Kurt, it won't happen again. Blaine wouldn't do that," Santana said firmly. 'Not if he knows what's good for him.' She continued. "That boy is so head over heels in love with you it's kind of sickening to watch."

"He said he was lonely and I wasn't there for him. He needed me. He needed someone," Kurt said brokenly. He had accepted his part in the break-up. Kurt added quietly, "It's not so different now. I know I'm busy and I can't always be there for him. Hell, I feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew. Even on a part time schedule at NYADA. I'm trying so hard to be there for him. But I can't, not when he's dealing with his problems and he won't tell me. I just… I keep wondering if I'll be enough this time."

There were no tears, just an exhausting honesty.

"And have you, I don't know, done the damn rational thing and _talked to Blaine about this?_" Santana asked pointedly.

"I tried," Kurt admitted, rubbed his face tiredly, "I just couldn't find the words. This morning actually. It led to, I don't know, some kind of passive aggressive fight."

Santana said nothing.

"Fuck."

"No. Talk," Santana quipped.

Kurt glared at her half-heartedly.

~0~0~0~

Saturday morning was horrid. Blaine woke up, back aching, and heading pounding.

"Fucking hell," someone swore.

Blearily, Blaine called out at the familiar voice, "Sam?"

"Hey Blaine, you stayed too?"

"Stayed?" Blaine forced his eyes open to take in an unfamiliar ceiling. Looking around in the annoying sunlight, the room looked vaguely familiar and thoroughly trashed. Looking down, he was till dressed in his clothing from yesterday with a blanket thrown over him.

"Pete's party," Sam answered, apparently he commandeered the other couch. "I thought you would have left early."

Blaine groaned at the loudness and the sunlight. The he lost at King, the drinking game. Which made sense considering the pounding hangover.

'Saturday. No class and late shift. Thank God,' Blaine sighed in relief. He paused before swearing and searching frantically for his phone.

Said phone was on silent and showed the time. It was a little after eleven which made him swear even more. There were voicemails and some text messages that he really didn't want to open. Instead, Blaine fell back down on the couch and covered his eyes.

"Alright man?" Sam questioned. "Bad hangover? Pete's in the kitchen. Some coffee will do you good."

Before Blaine could answer, someone walked into the room, "Praise me as your saviour. I bearing coffee, lightweights."

"You're a lifesaver, Pete." Sam swore.

"Yes, and return I ask that you help me sort out this mess," Pete replied easily. "Blaine?"

Blaine moved his arm to see the coffee mug and the easy smile on Pete's face. Groggily he sat up and took the offered coffee with a smile. "Thanks. It will help but not solve the shit storm I'm in for."

Sam looked at him before wincing. "Kurt?"

Blaine sipped the black coffee, wincing slightly before nodding. "I told him about the party but I didn't cancel breakfast."

"Dude, this is like the second time this week you've cancelled on him," Sam pointed out.

"More like the third," Blaine admitted. "We just... I don't know… kind of fought yesterday and I really didn't want to deal with it last night. I didn't plan on getting trashed."

Pete had plonked down on the floor. The apartment was actually big for New York, with three bedrooms. He and two friends from high school shared the place with their parents paying rent.

"Kurt?" Pete questioned, "The mysterious boyfriend who keeps calling you when you're out? Sounds clingy dude."

Blaine winced, "He's not. He's just really busy and we don't really have a lot of free time together."

Pete rolled his eyes and repeated himself, "sounds clingy. How long have you been dating?"

Sam grinned, "Blaine's sophomore year and Kurt's junior. They're high school sweethearts."

"Okay, so serious enough you guys didn't break up," Pete nodded to himself. "What is he so busy with that he can't join you for an evening out with us?"

Sam laughed at the sarcastic tone and hid behind the mug from Blaine's glare.

"He's a second year at NYADA and understudying Peter in Peter Pan on Broadway," Blaine said with a small smile. "He's playing Matt the Lost Boy Peter too."

Pete choked on his coffee. Spluttering, he looked at Blaine wide eyed. "I'm no Broadway freak but your boyfriend is acting on Broadway?!"

"He also works part time as Isabelle Wright's PA," Sam added. "He's like ridiculously busy but then again, so are Rachel and Santana."

Blaine sighed, "He had a full day of rehearsals yesterday and he would have been too tired to come. He works at Vogue all day today. We usually have breakfast together on a Saturday. He's going to kill me for skipping again."

"Forget Kurt, if he's upset you're going to have to run from Santana," Sam shivered at the thought.

Blaine swore as he looked at his phone again. Closing his eyes he didn't know what was happening. It was like nothing was working out lately.

NYU was different. He was just another face. Sam had found a group of friends almost immediately and was happy with his classes. Blaine had changed his class list twice, finally settling on his electives to business and management. It would be handy later on he knew. Plus, he could always pick up extra electives in music next year.

But he hated being just one of the numbers. And it was frustrating when he realised that he may be talented, he wasn't _the_ talented one anymore. He had to fight for every piece of recognition. To be seen for who he was. It was like the New Directions on steroids. For the first time he really understood by what Kurt had said at Dalton.

_Sometimes I feel like I have to scream to be heard._

Blaine knew he stumbled around. He tried to find a group of people. Of friends. But it wasn't Dalton where he found the brotherhood in The Warblers or McKinley where he had been adopted by the New Directions.

For the first time in a long time Blaine had to figure it out himself. And he honestly felt like he could talk to Kurt about it. Because when Kurt struggled to find his feet, and threw himself head first into work and friends, Blaine had left him. Kurt struggled alone and come out on top.

Kurt knew who he was and was confident enough to be himself and walk down the corridor at McKinley. Blaine took two weeks to tell the group of friends he joined that he had a boyfriend.

But Blaine liked the freedom in some sense. He tried new things. He like the parties and the dancing and having a couple of drinks. Stuff that Kurt admitted he didn't care for. Blaine liked hanging out at the student bars that no one would admit were on campus. Dingy club rooms that Kurt would never step foot in.

In the quiet Blaine would admit that he was jealous of Kurt. That he didn't fit into New York like Kurt had. The success Kurt was living now was amazing, and Blaine just wished that it wasn't so time consuming.

This was now what he imagined living in New York with Kurt would be like.

Finishing the coffee, Blaine gathered his courage and checked his messages. He typed a quick apology to Kurt, replied to Rachel's random question and Cooper's random message. Voicemail would wait for after a shower and food. The missed call log made him groan when he realised he missed a call from his Grandmother. He would have to call back. She had been trying to guilt him into bringing Kurt back to London for Christmas. If there was anyone who could pick up there was something wrong with him, it would be his Grandmother.

Failing to call back would mean she would demand someone be sent to check up on him.

~0~0~0~

Blaine and Sam were back at their place, showered and fed and looking remotely alive. Sam retreated to get more sleep after taking an aspirin. They both had a shift at the diner in a couple of hours.

Blaine took the privacy to return the calls.

"Poppy! How are you? And how is Darling?" were the first words Katherine said, happy and loud. "Why didn't you pick up?"

"Hello grandmother. I'm fine. I was out with friends last night I didn't hear my phone. Kurt is good too, just very busy," Blaine replied mildly.

Katherine hummed, "Well, Darling is doing a lot, isn't he? I mean, juggling class, a play and that job of his."

"He's very dedicated," Blaine said with a soft smile. Honestly, Kurt was stubborn and would do it all just to prove he could.

"Well, you will need to get your grandfather and I some tickets for his show when it opens," she ordered. Blaine rolled his eyes fondly.

"You'll come?" Blaine questioned. "He's only playing the Lost Boy Matt for the first month."

"Well, we'll get to see both. Your grandfather and I will be coming to Ohio for Christmas so I thought we could come over to New York for the opening and stay till New Year's."

Blaine choked. The last time he grandparents had come to America he had been a toddler. They usually visited them in England.

"Sure," Blaine agreed quickly. "Does dad know you're coming?"

"Your grandfather told him," Katherine said airily, before adding in a whisper, "We are old. We can do what we want and your father just has to agree."

Blaine chuckled for a moment before adding, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Katherine replied just as softly. "Now, tell grandmother what's wrong? I know that tone."

Blaine sighed.

"Blaine Devon Henry Anderson…" came the warning across the Atlantic.

Blaine bit his lip before trying to hash out his thoughts to his grandmother. The feelings he had about NYU and how out of place he felt. How he had to scream to be heard and how he felt so lost in the crowd. How he questioned so many things about himself; like he just couldn't fit in like he did at Dalton or McKinley.

How he envied Kurt and how comfortable he was in New York. Blaine found a group of friends, but it still sometimes felt awkward and like an outsider.

How busy they both had been, Kurt more than Blaine. How it took some much energy to find a place. How he had to split his time between his friends. And Kurt's busy schedule and how Blaine couldn't ask him to come to a party after a fully day because he knew Kurt was dead on his feet. And he would, though, because _Blaine_ asked him too.

And Blaine loved Kurt's success. After struggling in Lima, Kurt was finally shining in his own right and not being looked over. But at the same time, Blaine wished for just a little bit of success like that. Just a chance to shine too.

Most of all, their relationship had changed, and not in a good way. It was so hard to talk. And that had never really been a problem with them. It was like they had nothing to say or too tired or sometimes, their opinions were too different.

"I didn't imagine New York would be like this for us," Blaine admitted after almost half an hour of venting, "I miss how we used to be. It's like too much has changed and that terrifies me, grandmother. But I love him more than ever."

Katherine sighed over the line and was silent for a moment.

"Oh Poppy… my dear, there is no going back to how things used to be."

"What?" asked Blaine, terror in his voice.

"Poppy, you've both change and so has your relationship."

"What do you mean?" Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat as he asked quietly.

"Blaine, you were in Lima for a year. You're finding yourself now, it's your first taste of freedom and you're redefining yourself. Kurt had that last year. He grew up when he went to New York alone. He changed a little, slowly. And by then, you two weren't speaking Poppy. Yes, he's the same boy you remember from Ohio, but he's a little different now, yes?"

'Confident. Balanced. Stronger yet vulnerable. He's got far more shields. Far more beautiful than last year and far less than next year,' Blaine replied instantly but no words left his lips as he grandmother continued.

"And your relationship changed because you two broke up. Blaine, you've owned up to your actions, but those actions have lasting consequences. You hurt him and he you; you both hurt each other and your relationship. Blaine, when trust is broken it takes a lot more work to get back. You can't just talk about it once and think everything is fixed. Sometimes there are consequences we can't see."

"How do I fix this?" Blaine asked sounding far younger than his age.

"Talk to him. That boy loves you and is trying. This is the first time in a year you've both living in the same city. You two need to talk and be honest with yourselves, your issues. You need to decide if you both are willing to make your relationship work and work through the issues. Poppy, the two of you just need to really talk to each other; about everything."

"Everything you just told me, tell him."

"… Thanks Grandmother."

"Now go fix your love life Poppy because we've already booked the flights. You're of English descent. If you have to, you will charm Darling to fall in love with you all over again."

"Yes grandmother," Blaine half-sassed before saying his goodbyes.

"Good. And please be responsible with your drinking. I know it's fun and you're in college but Anderson men tend to do stupid things when they are drunk. The amount of stories I could tell you about your Uncle…"

"Um, the drinking age is 21 over here…"

"Don't try pull the wool over my eyes, young man! I know all about you American college experience. Your brother often misdialled me when trying to call his girlfriend of the time Kathy. You would think he would learn after the first time to change my contact information to Grandmother. Thank the Lord you aren't as stubborn as Cooper."

"I promise never to drunk dial you, grandmother."

"You're far cheekier," Katherine shot back dryly. "Well, Poppy. Call me when you've had your chat. I want to speak to Darling next time."

"Of course grandmother."

~0~0~0~

The text message honestly didn't even surprise Blaine when it came. Santana was uncanny like that. Plus she was the closest person to Kurt, and maybe a year ago Blaine would have argued that was him. Now, he wasn't so sure.

**Hobbit, get your ass over to Porcelain and have a proper chat asap or Auntie Snix will hunt your hairy feet down and employ tactics of torture until you fix the mess you've made. I can't stand the doe-eyed sad Bambi look he gets over his phone. The Mexican Third Eyes knows that you know what I'm talking about. Satan out. **

In the end, Blaine was waiting outside vogue on Sunday. Kurt had rehearsals on a Sunday morning but work as many hours at the office in the afternoon as he could. Isabelle always sent him home around five though.

And like clockwork, Kurt walked out of the building at five. Blaine had claimed a seat at a small coffee shop three doors down and had a near-clear view of the vogue entrance. He only felt slightly like a stalker.

Dumping the half-full cup of take away coffee in the bin, Blaine made a beeline for Kurt, calling out his name.

Kurt turned at the sound of his name, slightly shocked that Blaine had been waiting for him. That hadn't happened since the last week of August.

"Blaine?" Kurt questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't you have a group project?"

"I did, earlier," Blaine tried to explain, "It's just, we need to talk and I needed to do this in person."

The colour drained from Kurt's face at his words.

"No! Not like that!" Blaine practically shouted as he realised what he said, "I mean, we haven't talked in a while, and we can't keep going like this."

Blaine paused as if to gather his thoughts, his hand reaching for Kurt's trembling one. That made him frown.

"Things haven't been… right lately. We have to fix this because I can't lose you. Not again," Blaine said quietly on a busy New York street. His hazel eyes staring right at Kurt. "I'm sorry I've been distant. I'm sorry about cancelling but I swear at the time it seemed like my reason was good."

"Seemed?" Kurt asked, seemingly trying to grasp at what exactly was happening.

"Yeah," and Blaine smiled that smile he saved just for Kurt. Complete with the heart eyes. "At the time it seemed like a good idea but now I can't figure out how I thought spending time away from you was a good idea."

Kurt flushed but said with a sad smile, "It's my fault. I've been so busy lately I feel like I just can't catch my breath. I think I've bitten off more than I can chew. Isabelle is finally able to cut down my hours a little. I should have made more time for you. And I'm sorry about nagging you about going out with your friends. It's some old issues keep creeping back, and I swear I love you."

"Hey, hey," Blaine said gently, "First and foremost, I love you Kurt. More than I thought possible. And I swear I'm willing to work on us. We'll fix whatever is broken and get used to whatever good change that has happened. But I'm here, and I swear I'm not going anywhere."

Kurt was silent, as he stared wide eyed at his boyfriend. Slowly, Kurt leaned in and gave Blaine a soft kiss on the lips. "Missed you."

Blaine swallowed as he tightened his grip on Kurt's hand. "I've ordered food from that Italian place you love. I thought we could have a picnic on the rooftop. It would be safe and close to home but private. We can talk."

"About anything and everything," Kurt agreed with a smile, squeezing Blaine's hand lightly. "And for the record, me too. I'm here and I'm willing to work on us."

~0~0~0~

Santana nodded in satisfaction at what she saw when she got home early on Thursday evening. She had a test coming off so no classes that week. Instead, she stood at the entrance to the kitchen and almost barfed at the level of rainbow love that emitted from it.

Kurt was cooking, and trying to teach Blaine a recipe from the 'Big File of Approved Recipes'. And she thanked whatever god did exist that it wasn't vegan. She had been through hell that day and she needed meat. And from the smell, Kurt baked too.

It was awesome having the stereotypical gay roommate and best friend.

Individual interrogation earlier that week revealed that Klaine had talked things through on Sunday. Confronting Kurt, she only got the general gist that Blaine had talked about his problems and issues about New York. How he was only starting to feel comfortable. And about how he worried about Kurt. Kurt blushed as he explained that Blaine didn't invite him because he knew Kurt would be tired and could use the rest if he wasn't busy. Plus, the places they hung out at in NYU were places Blaine knew Kurt would never step into. But he would introduce Kurt to his friends next week, 'after the insane projects they had to hand in'. And on a more personal note, how much Kurt had changed to Blaine.

Santana rolled her eyes at that. Kurt just needed to tell his Bird Boy that he loved him and still needed and wanted him in his life. No matter how much Kurt changed. Which Kurt did say, so Santana could only sigh in relief.

As for ambush of Blaine, Santana cornered his after his shift on Monday and glared him into submission until he spilled his bean. But he looked so guilty. He blurted it all out. How he hadn't known how much he hurt Kurt, not just their relationship, by cheating. Seeing Kurt like that, admit that he wondered if he was good enough. Blaine broke a little with each word, and broke more when Kurt admitted he the main issue he had with Blaine going out was he was terrified of hearing those words again. That Blaine had cheated again, because Blaine had loved him before and still cheated. And there was nothing to stop him now.

The loss of trust hurt Blaine than he could explain. Kurt never used his armour against Blaine before the Break-Up. And the only thing that would fix the mess that was their relation was hard work, time and actually talking to each other. And they had talked. Kurt confessed about how tired he was. How overwhelmed he felt on most days as he tried to keep up with NYADA and how out of place he felt at Julliard. The pressure of Peter and how vogue had changed since he started modelling. How he was being treated differently by the interns and other assistants.

But Blaine looked at her, no matter how intimidated he was, and thanked her. He thanked her for being there for Kurt and swore he would always be there for Kurt. That he loved Kurt and could never hurt him like that again.

"Because I can't watch Kurt leave a second time; I can't." and between the honesty in Blaine's voice and that look in his eyes, Santana believed him.

It was a wiser version of that Warbler that fell in love with the public school diva. But it was that boy who transferred schools and walked through nightmares to be with Kurt and make him happy.

'God, they are a match made in freaking gay heaven,' she mused.

But looking at them laugh and cook and look so in love. The same love they had through high school, the fights, the good and the bad. The damn break-up. The reconciliation. It kind of gave Santana hope that there was a love out there that she could fight for. The kind of love that lasts.

Even if she would never say it out loud. No, she rather straighten her shoulders and walk into the kitchen with a bitchy comment.

Because she was Santana Lopez.

Even if she was smiling slightly at the sight before her.

~0~0~0~

Part 2 of as 3 story update in honour of my birthday. :P

Unedited, so feel free to point out the mistakes.

[19 Pages, 10200 words]

Trying to write the ending to this was a bitch. Hope I did it justice. Words don't fix a relationship; it takes hard work and actions. Cheating breaks trust, self-esteem and understanding.

Amira D.


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